


Let Your Grace Guide You

by angel_ponders



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hell, Hellhounds, M/M, Sexual Content, Slash, Wing Kink, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-10
Updated: 2012-10-10
Packaged: 2017-11-16 00:41:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/533582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel_ponders/pseuds/angel_ponders
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Castiel heals Dean at Stull, the hunter finds himself with unexpected abilities.  He becomes determined to use his newfound powers, with Castiel’s guidance, to rescue Sam from the cage. In order to ensure that their venture to Hell is successful, they are forced to team up with Crowley, who has his own agenda regarding what’s locked up in the pits of Hell.  During the course of their alliance, secrets come out, feelings bubble to the surface, and Dean finds himself once again facing an impossibly dangerous situation in an effort to save his brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the [Dean Castiel Big Bang](http://deancasbigbang.livejournal.com/) on livejournal. View it on my personal journal [here.](http://angel-kink.livejournal.com/182232.html) The art for this fic was done by my amazing friend [Rinienne,](http://rinji-ryu.livejournal.com/) all of which you can view [here](http://rinji-ryu.livejournal.com/130164.html). My betas were [light_frost](http://light-frost.livejournal.com/) and [harmonyhelms.](http://harmonyhelms.livejournal.com/) And major thanks to my amazing Alpha who helped me turn this from a spotty outline in bullet points into the almost 25k word piece that it currently is. Thanks [Audrey](http://princessaudrii.livejournal.com/)!

Dean Winchester knelt, defeated, on the chosen battlefield; battered and broken and hopelessly alone. Together, one ex-blood junkie, a dropout with six bucks to his name, an old drunk, and a fallen angel had stopped the apocalypse. They’d won, but Dean had lost everything that mattered to him in the world. Lucifer killed Castiel and Bobby and had beaten him pretty badly shortly after. Then Sam took control back and threw himself into the cage, pulling Michael and Adam in with him.

When he’d driven there just an hour before, he hadn’t really been expecting to live through it. He just wanted to be there for Sam so that, win or lose, his brother wouldn’t be alone. He’d know that Dean would always be there with him...and now, Sam was gone, Bobby was gone, Cas was gone. He was the sole survivor of what was supposed to be the final battle between Michael and Lucifer. Only Sam changed that; their plan had worked, but the cost was so incredibly high.

He sensed Castiel’s presence before he saw him. He wasn’t sure if it was the sound of wing beats or just some sort of psychic spidey sense that’d begun to develop. He just somehow knew that Castiel was there nearby, alive and well. But he’d seen Lucifer destroy Castiel just minutes ago. His rational mind attributed it to post traumatic stress or wishful thinking, but deep down inside he believed it. All he had to do was turn around.

Dean’s curiosity piqued and he looked over his left shoulder. Castiel was standing there completely unharmed. Dean wanted to stand up. He wanted to touch him, prove to himself that he was real. But his bones were broken, his ribs were bruised, every muscle in his body ached. He just stared at the angel through foggy, swollen eyes and hoped that it wasn’t a hallucination.

“Cas...you’re alive?”

“I’m better than that,” Castiel said as he extended two fingers and tapped Dean gently on the forehead.

Dean knew what it felt like to be healed by Castiel. His body was suddenly very warm, especially his aches and pains, which covered his entire body. Cells mended together and pain evaporated. It was more intense this time. Dean attributed it to the severity of his injuries and basked in the comforting feeling that coursed through his system for those few brief seconds.

“Cas? Are you God?”

“That’s a nice compliment, but no,” Castiel said, turning and walking towards Bobby a few yards away. “Although I do believe He brought me back. New and improved.”

Castiel knelt next to the older hunter and touched his forehead. It only took a few seconds for Bobby to jerk awake. He struggled to climb to his feet and spent a moment surveying the land. It was obvious what had happened. They’d won, but it’d been costly.

“Come back to Sioux Falls,” Bobby finally said, breaking the ice.

Dean smiled, but shook his head. “I can’t. I made a promise,” he said as he finally stood up off the ground.

“That can wait a few days while you recuperate.”

“No,” Dean said. “If I don’t do it now, then...”

He trailed off, but Bobby didn’t need any more of an explanation; it was just something that he needed to do. Instead of argue, Bobby just pulled Dean into a hug. Dean went willingly, knowing that this might be the last time they’d see each other in a long time. Bobby was family. He loved him and he’d miss him, but Sam wanted him to step away from hunting and live an apple pie life and damn it, Bobby would always be a hunter. Their paths might not cross for who knows how long.

Bobby hopped in his car and drove off, leaving Dean and Castiel alone at Stull. They were both silent for a long time, neither one really wanting to be the first to break the silence. Dean wanted to get on the road before he lost his nerve, though, and finally spoke.

“What are you going to do?”

“I suppose I’ll return to Heaven.”

“Heaven?”

“With Michael in the cage, I’m sure it’s total anarchy up there.”

“So, what, you’re gonna go up there and try to play sheriff?”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way, but yes, I suppose I am.” Dean huffed and shook his head. “Somebody has to, Dean.”

Dean looked to the ground. Castiel was right, but it didn’t make him feel any better. It was Heaven’s fault that this whole mess had to happen anyway and Cas was gonna go right back up there and join the Host again. But at the same time if anyone was going to go try to sort things out, Dean was glad it would be Cas. He trusted him more than he felt comfortable admitting to out loud.

“Fine,” Dean said as he fished in his pocket for the keys to the Impala. “You go do that. I’ve got a promise to keep.”

Dean got in the car and turned the ignition. He looked in his side mirror at Castiel, who was still standing there looking at him with that curious expression that Dean had begun to love. Cas was still a bit clueless about human emotions and he didn’t fully understood why Dean needed to leave right away, but he was respecting it.

Dean put the key in the ignition and drove away from Stull. He drove away from Castiel, the cage, the whole damn apocalypse, and headed out to fullfil the last wishes of his brother. For Sam, he’d walk away from the family business forever...


	2. Chapter One

He had several hours still ahead of him on the road to Cicero, but Dean intended to drive it all in one shot. He had no plan of stopping and renting a room at a motel. He didn’t want to spend the night alone. He didn’t want to look over at the empty bed on the other side of the room and let his thoughts drift to his brother. It’d be too much...

He flipped through the radio stations hoping to find something to keep his mind off things. He knew if he tried to listen to any of his usual tapes he’d start thinking about Sam again. Right now he needed something new, something he never listened to before. Unfortunately, the only radio stations he could find on this long stretch of deserted highway either talked about strange worldwide natural disasters or was one of those modern rock stations Sam had always listened to when he drove. And those thoughts brought Dean back to treacherous ground again, so he turned the radio off and resigned himself to a lonely, silent ride.

Dean rolled down the window and let the cool night air blow in. By this time he was pretty sure he'd been awake since Tuesday, and it was Friday. It was nearly Saturday now, actually. The incoming chill made him more alert and he welcomed any help he could get, now that he was alone...now that he had only himself to rely on. The sound of the wind rushing through the open window and the engine revving as he raced down the highway was almost enough to drown out his troubled thoughts.

The sky seemed brighter that night. It was almost like he could see stars he’d never seen before. Even the light pollution from the Impala’s headlights couldn’t drown out the stars’ intensity. But it was even more than that; he could see colors swirling in the sky he was sure hadn’t been there before. In a way, it reminded him of the swirling skies in Heaven. Maybe he’d died back at Stull and this was the Axis Mundi. Maybe it really was all over for him.

The red light on the dashboard pulled him out of this train of thought. Surely the Impala wouldn’t be running on empty in Heaven. If everything was supposed to be so perfect there, then his baby would never run out of fuel. He hadn’t checked the gas tank since before Sam had said yes to Lucifer. That was nearly a week ago. He was usually pretty on top of taking care of the Impala, but he’d been a little too preoccupied with the apocalypse to really look at the fuel gauge.

About ten minutes later he pulled into a small gas station just off the highway. As the tank was filling up he went into the snack shop in search of sustenance; now that his adrenaline was slowly returning to normal levels, he knew he was going to need something solid to keep him going.

He gathered various salty snacks that’d hold him over for the rest of the drive, but the sight of the man behind the counter made him double take. His face looked like it had been charred to a crisp--dark, chalky, and cracked flesh barely hanging on to his bones. His eyes were demon black and a dark smokey aura clung to his skin, subtly shifting like fog on dry ice when wet. Dean remembered this look. He’d seen these creatures when he was beginning to pierce the veil. This is what Ruby looked like in those final days before Dean was torn to shreds by Lillith’s Hellhounds.

Before Dean had a chance to react another customer brushed past him and approached the register. The woman didn’t appear to be seeing the same features that he was seeing. Or if she was, she was taking the rather grotesque display in a surprisingly calm manner. She purchased her items and left the store without so much as a second look at the cashier. The woman did, however, raise an eyebrow at Dean who had been standing awkwardly in the middle of the candy aisle for several minutes.

“Need help finding anything, sir?” the cashier asked. Dean fought hard to look at the man without reacting to what he was seeing. His hunting instincts screamed that this “man” was something else, something unnatural that he needed to stop, but the other customer's reaction was throwing him off. Was he cracking? Did the trauma of losing Sam, on top of the damage from all those torturous years in Hell, finally destroy the last vestige of sanity that he'd been desperately clinging to?

“Sir?”

“No, sorry, I’ve had a long drive,” Dean said as he stepped forward and placed his items on the counter. He blinked a few times, but the creature in front of him remained exactly as it had been when he’d first noticed it. Had it been that way when he first got here? He wasn’t sure. He’d headed straight for the potato chip aisle. Why was it here? Why would a demon be hanging out in a rest stop? Were they following him? Nothing made sense.

“Where you comin’ from?”

“Kansas,” Dean said as he averted his eyes to his snack foods. He watched as the demon’s hideous hands scanned each individual item set on the counter. The idea that those burned and mangled claws were handling _his food_ made Dean nauseous.

“Kansas,” the cashier repeated as he started bagging Dean’s food. “I’ve got some family in Lawrence.”

“Me too,” Dean said as he made an effort to look at something else. _Anything_ else. Dean's gaze flit from the lotto tickets to the energy drink display to the cigarettes. “Or at least I did have family there. A while ago...”

“You don’t say. Small world, isn’t it?” When Dean looked up the creature seemed to be smirking at him. At least that’s what it looked like; it was hard to tell since the face barely resembled a human anymore. “With the pump there your total’s $54.11.”

Dean practically threw his cash on the counter and dashed out of the store with his snacks in hand. He had an overwhelming urge to take up Ruby's old knife and drive it through one of creature's pitch black eyes. After years of training, it's become instinct to eliminate monsters on sight. But if he was the only one seeing it, there’s a good chance that _thing_ behind the counter could be human. Then Dean would be a murderer. He couldn’t trust his own eyes.

—-

A few miles further down the road Dean pulled over and dialed Bobby.

“Dean?”

“I’ve got a problem.”

“Already? We just finished the apocalypse.”

“Yeah, look, I know, but I think that’s part of the problem.”

“Hold on, kid. Start over. I’m not following you.”

“I...I think I saw a demon. Like, a real demon’s face. Not just a guy in a meatsuit, but--”

“Wait, how do you know that’s what you saw?”

“Because that’s what they looked before I became a Hellhound’s chew toy.” There was silence on the other end of the line. “Bobby?”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to question your experience recognizing demons.”

“No, I’m questioning it too. I mean, the demons in Hell didn’t have bodies. They were just burning, rotting... _things._ But the demons before looked like this when they were possessing humans. Ruby looked like this. So did Lillith. I would have said ‘Christo’ but it’s not like I would have been able to tell if he reacted or not. His face was way too gross.”

“Did you kill it?”

“No. I mean, there was another person in the store and she didn’t see anything strange. I don’t know. I...I think I’m losing my mind here, Bobby.”

“Now, hold on. Let’s not jump to that conclusion just yet.”

“Well, why not? Who the hell sees demon faces unless they’re on a one-way path to being a hellhound’s bitch or full on _Girl, Interrupted_ meets Hannibal Lector, sign me up for a straitjacket, crazy? I think...I think I need to turn around and head to your place.”

Bobby was silent for a few seconds. “You’re always welcome here, Dean, but Lisa--”

“If I’m losing it, I don’t want to subject her to that. And if I’m not losing it, well, I’m piercing the veil and I don’t want her to have a dead boyfriend on her front porch either.”

“Alright. Head on over. I’ll have a bed made up for you.”

“Thanks, Bobby.”

-

Dean made it to Bobby’s house in record time. His single tank of gas barely made it the entire way, but he was in no mood to stop and have another bizarre encounter, so he pushed it to its limit. By the time he made it to Sioux Falls he was sure the Impala was running on fumes. Bobby greeted him at the door with a beer in hand and they settled in the living room.

“I’ve been readin’,” Bobby said and he started rifling through the open books on the coffee table. “Don’t think you’re destined to be a chew toy this time, kid.”

“Then what?”

“Well, the list of creatures that can see a demon’s true face is short. Basically, it’s just other demons, angels, and certain types of mediums.”

“Well, as far as I know I’m not an angel or a demon, so--” When Bobby just shrugged in response Dean took a long drink of his beer. “I don’t think so. If I was a medium I think I would have known something by now.”

“Maybe the apocalypse knocked something loose. I don’t know. Or maybe we're looking at this the wrong way. When's the last time you slept? And I don't mean a catnap in the back of the Impala. I mean six to eight, Dean. You went to Hell, literally, and you saw a lot of shit, and you come back here and had to deal with Lilith breaking the seals and Sam's addiction and angels wanting to ride you worse than any demon could and you've been falling in the bottle harder than your daddy ever did. You've been going full throttle for so long that...”

"That what, Bobby? I'm crazy now?” Dean tried his best to look offended, but he was beginning to question his own sanity anyway. He was more worried that his initial assumption that he’d lost his mind was right on the mark than he was offended.

“I'm not saying that you’re crazy. I'm saying that you're tired. You need a vacation, and maybe you need to lay off the hunter's helper."

“Maybe you're right, but maybe the apocalypse _did_ knock something loose up there. I don’t know. But I think you should lock me in the panic room for the night. If I’m not losing it and something bad is happening to me then it’s not safe to have me out here.”

“Dean, I don’t think--”

“No, Bobby, we’ve lost enough these past few days. I’m not taking any more chances.”

“Fine,” Bobby said as he shut one of the books and folded his arms. “I’ll lock you in there, but if this isn’t some sort of psychic mumbo jumbo, you’re probably just suffering from PTSD or something. I think locking you in the panic room might be a little overboard.”

“Maybe, but like I said, no more chances. If there’s even a small possibility that something’s wrong, I’m locking myself up for the night.”

“Alright,” Bobby sighed as he crossed the room towards the door. “I’ll get the cot set up.”

-

Dean wasn’t sure if he had nodded off or not. It was hard to tell how long had passed when the only source of light was a flickering fluorescent bulb on the other side of the devil’s trap-shaped ceiling vent. The last time Dean had looked at his watch it was just past 3 AM, but he didn’t really want to look again. Maybe it was just better to ignore the passage of time and try to be completely dead to the world for a while. He shut his eyes and tried to force himself asleep.

A warm feeling began to stir in his chest and he opened his eyes again. He was sure that this time he’d awoken from a deep sleep, but he wasn’t quite sure how long it’d lasted. It could have been minutes or hours, even days. But what was even more alarming than his initial disorientation was how the strange sensation in his chest seemed to come out of nowhere and completely take over his senses. He couldn’t think of anything other than the warmth.

He touched his hand to his chest and shut his eyes again. Something about the feeling was familiar. It felt like Cas’ healing touch, only much deeper. It seemed to go all the way down to his very soul instead of merely dancing across his bruised and battered skin as it mended his cells back together. He splayed his fingers across his ribs, which seemed to make the thought of Cas become even more prominent in his mind, and took a moment to bask in the pleasant sensation the warmth seemed to be causing.

Dean opened his eyes again and looked around the room. It was too dark for him to make anything out, but Cas was there somewhere. He could sense him stronger than he ever could before.

“Cas?” 

The angel stepped out of the shadows and into the shaft of light in the middle of the room.

“Hello, Dean.”

“How the fuck did you know I was here?”

“I removed the Enochian from your ribs. I can sense where you are now.”

“What?” Dean snapped. His hand immediately went to his chest again and he started to panic. “Why’d you do that? Can’t any dick with wings find me now?”

“I was telling you the truth when I said the other angels had moved on from you. With events unfolding as they have, you hold very little interest to them at this point.”

“Yeah, but for how long? I mean, you could have just left them. What’s the harm in that?”

“I wanted to be able to find you in case of an emergency.”

Dean raised his eyebrows at that and found himself at a loss for words. He sat up on the cot to get comfortable, sensing that this conversation might last a while. He might as well get cozy. He puffed up a pillow against the wall, leaned back against it and looked up at Cas.

“It almost sounds like you’re volunteering to be my personal guardian angel,” Dean said.

“Maybe I am,” Cas responded seriously. Once again Dean found himself speechless. He cleared his throat and nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

“So...what are you doing here anyway?”

“You were not at Lisa’s. I was curious as to why.”

“Yeah I... I’m kind of having complications.”

“Complications?”

“Something’s just...off,” Dean explained as he gestured vaguely towards his head.

“How so?”

“Things are just, I don’t know, _brighter_. More intense. It’s like everything’s turned up to eleven,” he said, laughing slightly at what he thought was a decently witty reference. When Castiel stared at him blankly he rolled his eyes and continued explaining. “The lights, the sounds. I think I even saw the face of a demon. Like a real face. I don’t know, though. I think I was the only one who saw it. And I feel things; _weird_ things. When you popped into the room it felt like, I don’t know, really fucking hot in my chest,” he said as he tapped his ribcage.

Castiel sat on the edge of the cot next to Dean and gently rested his hand against Dean’s chest. Dean felt the same heat bubble up in him at the points where Castiel’s fingers made contact. It reminded Dean of those static electricity balls he always saw in shop windows as a kid. He could imagine the beams of electricity connecting with Cas’ fingertips just like the toys. Only, it wasn’t an electrical feeling. It was just... _warm_ and _happy._ Dean had never felt anything like it on a physical or emotional level.

Cas removed his hand and the sensation immediately lessened. It took a moment for Cas to take his eyes off Dean’s chest, but when he finally looked up at him his expression was practically unreadable. Dean wasn’t sure if he should be worried or relieved that Cas didn’t seem alarmed. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe Bobby was right. Maybe it was just PTSD.

“I’m sorry,” Cas said calmly. A small wave of panic shot through Dean.

“Sorry? What? What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing is wrong with you.” Dean lifted an eyebrow and gestured vaguely for him to explain more. “What I mean is that when I healed you, I healed all of you so you’re different, but not ‘wrong.’”

“What, and you didn’t do that when you resurrected me the first time?”

“There were certain things that I was unable heal. Things that happened to you in Hell.” Dean winced and looked away. The last thing he wanted to think about was the damage he sustained in Hell. It hurt too much to think that Sammy was going through that now. “It’s not what you’re thinking, Dean. Your soul wasn’t damaged, despite what you’ve been through. What I meant is that your time in Hell numbed you to certain abilities you would have had as a vessel.”

“I don’t remember seeing all this shit before getting dragged to Hell. And fuck, if Sam had been seeing any of this shit lately he would have said something.”

“Those particular attributes aren’t vessel abilities. Those are... well...” Cas trailed off and started to rub the back of his neck nervously.

“Out with it, Cas.”

Cas sighed and looked down at his own hands. “It is residual. With my resurrection, I was unaccustomed to my new strength,” he said with some regret. His hands fidgeted uncomfortably on his lap. “When I attempted to wash the remnants of Hell from your soul I may have poured too much of my Grace into you and...some of it may have inadvertently stayed behind.”

“What, you left some of your mojo in me? So I’m part angel now?”

“No,” Cas said firmly. “Well, not exactly. Though you do have some remnants of my Grace blanketing your soul.”

“Okay, but what the fuck is going on? How can I see a demon’s face?”

“Hell’s influence hindered your abilities. Heaven’s influence appears to be amplifying them.”

Dean went silent and thought over what that meant. He was still human, but his senses seemed to be enhanced. Sure, it was confusing to understand them, but they could be helpful. It wasn’t like Sam with the demon blood. There were no victims in this. There was nobody else involved except for Castiel. And unlike Ruby, Cas had proven time and time again that he could be trusted. This could be a good thing.

“Could this help me get Sammy out of Hell?”

“Dean--”

“No. Cas, I’m doing this,” he said as he put his hand up to stop the conversation. He could tell by the look on the angel’s face that he was going to try and talk him out of it. But his mind was made up already. “He tried for _months_ to get me out. How could I not do the same for him?”

“It’s possible.” Cas paused and thought about it. “It could give you certain benefits as far as Hell is concerned. My Grace may allow you to cross over into Heaven or Hell without having to die. But you have to understand, Dean, when I rescued you I had dozens of other angels with me. We fought through thousands of demons to get your soul.”

“Can’t you round up some of your angel buddies to help? You’ve gotta still have some friends up there.”

“I do,” Cas said quietly. “But not many.”

“Cas,” Dean said, his voice cracking with desperation. “Please, there has to be...there has to be _something_ you can do? This is Sam we’re talking about...”

Cas hesitated for a moment, but eventually sighed. “I suppose I can ask. Though I make no promises that they will assist us.”

“‘Us?’ So you’re gonna help?”

“Of course, Dean. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know. You just lost an archangel upstairs. Figured you had better shit to do.”

“As you say, Dean, this is Sam. How could I not try?”

Castiel suddenly went absolutely still and stared straight ahead without blinking. Dean wasn’t sure how long it was supposed to take or what he was supposed to do when Castiel was tuning in to Angel Radio. After several awkward minutes, Dean began to debate lying down and trying to get back to sleep, but before he could come to a decision Castiel blinked and looked to the floor. It was the first indication that Cas was back with him and he sat up a little straighter.

“Well?” Cas looked up at him and Dean could tell what the answer was just by the look of disappointment on his face. “Why not?”

“Raphael won’t allow it.”

“What, he’s calling the shots now?”

“He’s the last archangel in Heaven, Dean.”

“Yeah, well, fuck that guy. He blew you up. We don’t need his permission to get my brother out of Hell.”

“Heaven isn’t known for its Free Will, Dean. None of the other angels see it like we do.”

Dean folded his arms and huffed out a frustrated sigh. “Whatever. You’re still in?”

“Of course. As you said, ‘fuck that guy.’”

Dean couldn’t contain his laughter. Hearing Castiel curse never ceased to amaze him. Uttering the words seemed like a painful experience, but Cas gave it his all.

“Yeah,” Dean said as he reached over and pat Cas on the shoulder. “Fuck that guy.”

Dean let his hand drop back down onto the mattress and tilted his head back against the wall. He wasn’t ready to give up. As far as he was concerned, he’d barely just begun to formulate a plan. If the angels weren’t going to help, he’d just have to find something as powerful or, hell, even _more_ powerful than them.

“You know, Sam went to Hell whole, but he's not supposed to be there, not really,” Dean said as he stared up at the ceiling. He couldn’t stop thinking about Sam. Nothing else mattered. He tore his gaze away from the ceiling and looked at Cas whose eyes were already locked on him. “Couldn't we get a Reaper to take his soul out of Hell? His and Adam's?”

“Dean,” Cas said with a sigh. Once again the look on Cas’ face told Dean almost everything he needed to know about the situation, but Cas explained anyway. “A Reaper doesn't have the power to cross planes. They can escort a soul to the gates but no further.”

“Then we ask the Man in Charge. He was pretty nice in a creepy ‘have some candy little kid’ kinda way. He’s gotta be able to do it.”

“That would be ill advised,” Cas said flatly. “Death isn't something that you can bribe or deal with, you would have to bind him to your will.” Dean tried to interrupt, but Cas simply held a hand up to quiet Dean and continued speaking. “You and your brother once came across a bound Reaper, correct?” Dean nodded. “And when released the Reaper turned on the one to whom it was bound. What Death would do is not even worth contemplating. Even Angels fear Death.

“There has to be another way, and we will find it,” Cas said firmly. “Together.”

Dean shut his eyes and bowed his head. The frustration in him was so intense he wanted to cry. But he knew that if he started, it’d be hard to stop, and he didn’t want to waste time he could be spending trying to get Sam out of Hell. He even felt guilty about sleeping, though taking a few hours nap here and there was slightly more justifiable in his mind. He just wanted to shut out his feelings and focus on the task at hand. He was a hunter. He had a job to do.

He felt Castiel shift on the cot and he opened his eyes. Cas had moved up to sit at the head of the cot beside him. It was already a tight fit for Dean to sleep on it, but he found that he wasn’t too bothered by having Cas so close. He was already so used to Cas invading his personal space it just felt like he belonged there. 

Without thinking Dean leaned over and rested his head against Cas’ shoulder. It didn’t strike him how intimate this gesture was until a few seconds later when Castiel put his arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer. A small amount of panic rose at that moment when the idea that was essentially cuddling with a messenger of God sunk in, but it was quickly drowned out by the warmth stirring in his chest. It seemed to spread throughout his entire body and relax him in a way even the strongest whiskey couldn’t accomplish.

He let himself be held like that for several minutes, just basking in the feeling of contentment that Castiel’s Grace seemed to cause when the angel was near. He was sure they had a long road ahead of them; moments like this might be too few and far between. He needed to enjoy the rare peaceful moments that came his way. Cas seemed to feel the same way, judging by the way that he comfortably settled into the embrace.

When Dean heard Bobby moving around upstairs he knew the moment had come to an end. It was time to get back to the task at hand. He had to rescue Sam. And he had to do it now.


	3. Chapter Two

“So wait,” Bobby said as he leaned back in his desk chair. “Let me try to understand this. You’ve got some of Cas’ mojo stickin’ to your soul and you want to use it to get Sam out of Hell somehow?”

“Yeah. I mean, we’ve gotta use any advantage we can get.” Dean shifted uncomfortably on his feet, preparing to have to argue with Bobby for as long as it took to get him on board.

“I believe it will allow Dean to occupy Heaven or Hell without his soul having to separate from his body,” Cas explained.

“You _believe._ That’s not exactly a boost of confidence. And even if that does work, what’s your plan once you get there?”

“We haven’t gotten that far yet,” Dean said sheepishly but quickly switched to a pleading tone. “But that’s why I need you on board with this, Bobby. I need your help here.”

“Help to barge through the gates of Hell?”

“If this can help in any way to get Sam out then I’ve gotta use it.” Then softly, in a whisper Dean almost wasn’t aware of slipping out, “He’s my brother.”

Dean knew he had that same look of devastation on his face that he’d had when he’d lost Sam the first time. He could feel both Cas and Bobby staring at him, seeing the emotions he usually keeps so close, painted all over his face. 

Bobby looked away from Dean with a gruff sigh and sat back in his chair for a moment tapping his fingers against the armrest. He seemed to be debating the options in his head and Dean began to wish he had Castiel’s telepathy. He needed an answer. No, if he was being honest with himself, he needed the right answer. He needed Bobby’s help but the longer Bobby seemed to contemplate the idea the less likely Dean felt that he’d go all in, that he’d agree to this crazy plan. 

And Dean knew it was crazy but it was all for Sammy and he needed his little brother. Hell, it’s that need for Sammy to be here, to be alive and with him, that led Dean, a lifetime ago to that ill-fated crossroads outside of Cold Oak in the first place. When Bobby finally spoke Dean was snapped out of his spiraling thoughts and back to the present situation.

“Well, did you think about contacting the one guy we know, that knows Hell well, and has shown an interest in helping us?” When Dean just stared at him blankly, Bobby sighed. “Crowley, you idjit.”

“No. Absolutely not. No more working with demons.” Dean shook his head in vigorous denial. “I may have had to do it the hard way, but I’ve learned my lesson and nothing good ever comes from it. I’m done with making deals and playing their games.”

“Well, if anyone is gonna have advice for us, it’s him. Besides, the bastard still has my soul. I need to talk to him ‘bout that anyway.”

Dean looked at Cas and was surprised to find that the angel wasn’t arguing against the plan. He was just standing there staring at the floor. “Cas?”

“He might be right, Dean,” Cas said, refusing to meet his eyes. “Hell is vast. Finding Lucifer’s cage won’t be easy. And finding it while battling its’ denizens will be nearly impossible if it’s just the two of us. Crowley knows Hell better than I do. He could be of use to us.”

“I don’t care how helpful you think he can be. We can’t trust anything he says. And I’m not working with him again.”

“Dean, you’re being petulant,” Cas said as he finally looked up to meet Dean’s eyes. “Information like this could mean the difference between saving Sam and all of us dying in Hell. You and I may be the only beings capable and _willing_ to go into Hell for Sam. If we die down there, he will be trapped in Lucifer’s cage. Forever.”

Dean went silent. He knew the situation was dire, but having just how stacked the odds were against him laid out like that was too much. Cas’ little speech made this whole plan seem impossible and the weight of it all... Dean had to push those feelings down and focus. If it was going to increase their chances of getting Sam out, then no matter how much he disliked it, how much his hunter instincts screamed at him that it was a mistake, he had to agree to it.

“Fine, but he’s still a demon and I still don’t trust him.”

“I don’t think any of us like it,” Bobby grumbled. “But it’s our best shot. Now go get the spray paint and I’ll get the stuff to summon the Princess of Darkness.”

-

“Robert, dear, is all _this_ really necessary,” Crowley said as he took in the sight of the Devil’s trap around him and the two men and angel in front of him.

“This isn’t a social call. And last time I checked, you were still a demon,” Dean snapped. However, he felt something was wrong with the situation and it took him a moment to put his finger on it. “Wait... Cas, why isn’t _his_ face all ‘extra crispy’ like the other demons?”

“Oh, now this is an interesting development,” Crowley said with a grin and he looked Dean up and down. Dean looked at the demon who was leering at him as if evaluating him for purchase. Dean clenched his jaw and breathed out slowly. He couldn’t let his anger get the better of him, not at a time like this. Dean would rather deal with the fact that it was becoming a long uncomfortable silence, and Castiel still hadn’t answered his question. 

“Cas?” Dean turned toward the angel. Cas held Dean’s stare and when he finally spoke it was with some reluctance.

“He’s not a demon in the sense that you are familiar with,” Cas said as his gaze shifted to the floor. “He was not a soul that was tormented until it was transformed. He was...” Castiel trailed off and kept his eyes on the floor for several long seconds.

“Oh just say it,” Crowley drawled as he swirled around some whiskey in a glass that Dean was pretty sure hadn’t been there before. “Might as well just tell them, its not like its some dirty little family secret... Oh, wait, it is, oops,” he smirked. Bobby glared at him and looked like he was about to say something but Castiel looked back at Dean and spoke first.

“He was an angel.”

“An angel,” Dean repeated. “He’s an angel...”

“ _Was_ an angel. Once. Millenia ago,” Cas reiterated.

“Yes, well,” Crowley interrupted as he brought the glass to his lips. “Now that this little charade is over-” 

Dean spoke over the demon, needing to hear from Castiel why he’d withheld this information before he could even consider talking to Crowley again. “You didn’t think to tell me about this? We worked with him... Fuck! I went off _alone_ with him, Cas. Why the fuck didn’t you tell me this shit before?”

“It didn’t seem relevant at the time.”

“Not relevant? How is it not fucking relevant? You don’t get it! Hunters die when they make mistakes. Mistakes like trusting the wrong people, or using the wrong weapon. How the hell am I supposed to protect myself from something if I don’t know what it is?”

“He’s still a demon! He just _chose_ to transform. Ruby’s knife would still work. Devil’s traps still work. His origin does not change what he has become!” 

They just stared at each other for a moment, both of them breathing heavily as their anger pumped their bodies with adrenaline. Cas may be an angel, but his emotions sometimes seemed to affect his vessel as though he were human.

“Yes, great, now that we’ve moved on to discussing how to kill me, do you think you can switch back to, oh I don’t know, the reason you ingrates summoned me here?”

“We need an expert on Hell,” Bobby interjected, giving Dean and Cas a moment to calm themselves down.

“Oh?” Crowley took a sip of his drink and turned to face Bobby. He smirked and gestured towards the older hunter with his glass. “And what makes you think I’ll just _give_ you my expert advice? The way I see it poppet, you don’t have anything worth bargaining with.”

“How ‘bout extending the contract on my soul?”

Dean spun around to look at Bobby, shocked at the sudden offer. They hadn’t discussed that, and yet here Bobby was offering it up without question. For Sam. Dean had known from the way Bobby had treated them over the years that he loved them. They were family. But knowing something and seeing it were two different things. “Bobby-”

“I already hold it indefinitely.” Crowley interrupted. “You obviously didn’t read the fine print.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Bobby cocked his shotgun and looked ready to shoot Crowley full of rock salt. It wouldn't kill the demon, but it would hurt like a bitch. Dean thought maybe Bobby should just shoot him anyway, just on principle.

“Paragraph 18 subsection B,” Crowley snapped his fingers and Bobby cried out in pain as ancient writing appeared all over his skin. “That part’s on your naughty bits. It says I only have to make ‘best efforts’ to give you back your soul.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean,” Dean snarled as he watched the writing on Bobby begin to fade. “Why can’t you give it your ‘best effort’?”

“His soul is still useful to me. Getting rid of it now would be detrimental. Besides, it keeps me warm at night,” he winked at Bobby.

“Then you can have Lucifer,” Cas reminded everyone he was there with his sudden addition to the conversation.

“Have him? I ‘have’ him right where I want him. In the cage.”

“Alive,” Cas said.

“Why, Castiel, are you proposing I kill Lucifer?” Crowley looked smugly at the angel. “That’s the kind of forward thinking that makes papa proud. Of course killing him negates the reason we boxed big brother in the first place. I thought you boys didn’t want Heaven on Earth, that is the reason why dimples here didn’t ‘angel up’ when Michael came courting.” 

They hadn’t discussed that either. Dean really wished they’d gone into this meeting with a better idea of what was coming. Glancing at Cas, he felt that warmth inside him bubbling to the surface again. This time it seemed to be a direct reaction to the fierce look on Cas’ face. He was feeling the intensity rolling off of Cas in waves. Cas was determined and it gave Dean comfort to know he wasn’t alone in this.

“I was merely stating a fact,” Castiel stared at Crowley as if daring him to say otherwise. “Surely access to Lucifer is more ‘useful’ to you than Robert Singer’s soul and the information we require.”

“First it was information and now you want his soul back, too?” 

Dean rolled his eyes. Crowley was laying on the faux indignation pretty thick and he could tell that he was up to something. Crowley seemed to enjoy being dramatic. He hoped this part of his little act would be over quickly and they could move on to actually getting stuff done. 

“I could just smite you, demon, and break your contract by force.” Castiel’s fingers seemed to clench momentarily as if he wanted to do just that.

“Ah, but then you wouldn’t get your ‘expert’ information would you, sweet?” Crowley smirked. “I tell you what, release me and I’ll think about it.”

“We’re gonna need a better answer than that,” Dean replied.

“That’s the only answer you’re going to get, Winchester.”

“Fuck you.”

“Is that a come on?” Crowley’s smirk faded and he looked sternly at the hunter. “Twenty four hours, Dean, and that’s my final offer. Let me out of this trap and I’ll be back in one day with my terms and conditions. I’m King of the Crossroads. You don’t get to be where I am by welching. Unlike some, I take my deals very seriously.”

“We agree,” Castiel said before Dean could respond. Cas waved his hand and the devil’s trap disappeared.

Crowley smiled and languidly strolled towards Castiel. He stopped a foot in front of him and winked. “I look forward to doing business with you in the future, angel. Try to control your human pets next time.”

With that, Crowley vanished. Dean and Bobby were both too stunned at the abrupt end to their encounter with Crowley to say anything. Bobby laid his shotgun on a nearby table and collapsed into a chair with sigh. Dean stared at Cas, who still seemed reluctant to look him in the eyes. Dean waited Cas out and after what seemed like an eternity Cas finally managed to turn to him.

“What the fuck was that about?” Dean tried to keep his tone calm, but was unable to keep the profanity from slipping in.

“Dean, I had to. You have very little to bargain with and-”

“And what? You’re just going to ignore me in all of this and make deals with the King of the Crossroads without discussing this with me?” 

“ _Ignore_ you? Dean, I’m doing this _for_ you. For _Sam_. For all of you. But the fact of the matter is that Crowley sees you as nothing more than... well...”

“Human.”

“Yes,” Cas said regretfully. “All you have to bargain with is your souls. He has Bobby’s already and he knows I’d never let him take yours.” 

Dean blanched at that. He knew it was true though. With everything they’d been through - Cas pulling Dean’s soul from Hell and now Cas’ grace swirling around it like a big cozy blanket - the angel seemed to have some sort of rights to it. Whether those rights were purely symbolic or something more, Dean wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t dwell on it right now. He turned to Bobby, and easily tapped into that anger that Crowley had stirred up in their conversation.

“And what the fuck was _that_ about? You just offer up your soul without talking to me first? Again! Look, I’m grateful for your help, but Bobby...” The anger that had been sustaining Dean seemed to slip from him, and all Dean could feel was empty. “You yelled at me about going off half-cocked but then you sold your soul to him without any of us knowing... and if Cas can’t get it back... you just, you need to talk to me about this shit. Both of you. I’ve had enough of people keeping secrets.”

“Crowley’s a pro, kid. We’ve gotta bargain fast with him or we might not get another chance. And it’s not like I planned it, but I’m glad I did it. Otherwise how would I have found out about the fine print?”

“Bobby’s right. Crowley takes this very seriously.”

“And I don’t? Soul selling is how we got into this mess. It’s not how we’re going to get out of it.”

“We’re doing the best we can, Dean,” Bobby snapped. He took a calming breath and stood up from his chair. “Look, it’s not helping blaming the people who are trying to help. You need rest, kid. You’ve slept for maybe five hours in the past week. Use Crowley’s thinking time to catch a nap.”

“Fuck, Bobby, how the hell can I do that? How can I... when Sam is...” Dean took a deep breath, trying to steady himself against the feeling of loss that was flooding him in that moment. His voice was shaking and his heart was racing and he was on the verge of breaking down into tears right there. “There has to be something in one of your books...”

“A spell to rescue someone from Hell? Don’t you think I’d have found it when Sam was trying to bust you out?”

“But it’s different now. With Cas’ Grace inside me, I mean, there has to be _something_...”

“Dean...” He turned to Cas. “You do need sleep. Even my Grace won’t be able to sustain you if you don’t get some rest soon. We have twenty four hours until Crowley returns. We haven’t made a deal yet. If you’d like to discuss this further, we have time after you get some rest.”

Dean sighed. Cas was right. He was human, even if he had a bit of Grace twirling around inside of him. And humans needed sleep. If the way his emotions had been rollercoastering out of control was any inclination of the depth of exhaustion creeping up on him, then Dean knew he could probably last at least a few more hours before crashing hard. If he pushed it. But he didn’t want to try, he’d have to be at his best tomorrow so that he’d be ready for whatever bullshit Crowley would try to pull.

Castiel put his hand out as though he were offering a handshake. Dean reached out to take it, slightly confused by the gesture, but trusting Cas before he really had time to think about it. The moment they made contact Castiel transported them to the upstairs bedroom. It took a second for Dean to process the sudden change in scenery, but when he did he rolled his eyes.

“I could have walked up the stairs, Cas.”

“I wanted to get you into bed as soon as possible.” Dean snorted at the double entendre. Cas must have been reading his mind because he blushed and quickly tried to recover. “For _sleeping_.”

Dean laughed and shook his head. It was times like this that Dean wondered if he wasn’t corrupting Castiel with his humanity. But other times he felt that if more angels were like Cas, and Anna and even Gabriel, then this whole damn apocalypse would never have started.

Seeing Bobby willing to give up his soul and Cas... sometimes Dean couldn’t believe how far out on a limb Castiel went for him. Other times he understood it completely. Castiel loved him. For some strange reason an angel of the lord had deemed Dean worthy of being loved. As fucked up as that seemed to Dean, it was the truth. And he was incredibly grateful for it, even though he didn’t feel like he deserved such devotion from anyone. The only other person who revered him in such a way was Sam. 

Sam... 

Sam always looked up to him. Dean had always felt responsible for him and tried to do his best by him, but it still wasn’t enough to save him.

“It’s been three days, Cas,” Dean said as he kicked his shoes off by the door. Castiel took a seat on the edge of the bed and watched as Dean started to pace back and forth at the foot of the bed. “Three days in Hell. That’s gotta be at least a few weeks to him.”

“Dean it’s... it’s been almost a year for him.” When Dean stopped pacing abruptly, “I apologize. I didn’t mean to upset-”

“No, it’s ok,” Dean said as he ran his hands through his hair. He took a deep calming breath, attempting to center himself emotionally. “It’s just the truth. All the more reason to get to him as soon as possible.”

“But tonight you need to sleep, Dean.”

“You’re starting to sound like Bobby,” Dean said with a roll of his eyes. He knew they were right, though. He went to the other side of the bed and sat down with his back against the headboard. “Not much we can do until Crowley gets back to us I guess, right?”

“Dean?”

“Hm?” Cas turned and looked at him.

“Even if Crowley does not agree to help us, I promise you I will see this through to the end. Even if I have to storm Hell by myself-”

“No, _not_ by yourself. I’d be coming too.”

“But Dean, that would be suicide-”

“And one angel barging into Hell on his own isn’t? I’ve been to Hell too, Cas. I know what it’s like.”

“I would have a better chance of surviving if I didn’t have to protect you as well.”

“Protect me? I've been a hunter my whole life and I spent longer than that in Hell. I know what's down there. I know what we're facing. Either we go together, or we're not going. I'm not letting you go there without me.”

A few silent moments passed before Cas stood up from the edge of the bed. Dean assumed he was about to fly off, but instead he bent over and untied his shoelaces. He very carefully slipped them off his feet and set them at the foot of the bed. Dean watched surprised, as he climbed up the mattress and sat next to him against the headboard.

“Aren’t you gonna get in trouble upstairs for hanging out here so long?”

“This is where I’m needed,” Cas said as he looked over to him. “They can just... ‘deal’ with it.”

Dean smiled. The pleasant heat in his chest swelled again and he gave in to the urge to be physically closer to Castiel. A part of Dean was glad he could have this one small thing, and be selfish for this one small moment. He leaned against the angel’s side and rested his head against Cas’ shoulder. Castiel responded by wrapping around an arm around him and holding him close. To put it simply, they were cuddling again. And though Dean would never let those words escape his lips, it was the truth. And it felt good.


	4. Chapter Three

He felt like he could fall asleep right there with his head against Cas’ shoulder. Dean didn’t know how to define what was happening. His soul and Cas' Grace were intimately acquainted, and the physicality of their relationship clicked into place around that connection. Being this close to Castiel felt right, and comforting, and his feelings toward the angel seemed stronger, the longer they were connected. He’d felt strongly about Castiel since they first met, but now that feeling seemed to be blossoming into something he’d never felt before. He couldn’t even begin to put it into words.

Dean eventually lifted his head off of Cas’ shoulder and looked up at the angel. Dean couldn’t remember what Castiel’s true form looked like - he couldn’t remember anything between being pulled from Hell and his resurrection - but he could remember _exactly_ what it felt like. It was this same feeling that he had in his chest. Soul and Grace intertwining. Warmth and love and safety. Now that he knew what this warmth was that he’d been feeling, it was unmistakable and he wondered why he hadn’t recognized it immediately.

Dean leaned forward and gently pressed his lips against Cas’, testing a new boundary between them that he hadn’t considered crossing before. The fact that Castiel was currently wearing a male vessel barely registered with him. Dean knew he was bisexual and even though he never really talked about it and very rarely acted upon it, he was comfortable with it. But Castiel wasn’t a man. He wasn’t even _human_. He was light and energy and power. His desire to be near him went beyond the physical. It was divine.

Their chaste kiss turned into something deeper as Dean gave into the urges that were coursing through his body. He needed to be as close to Cas as possible. He needed to be near him and around him. He just _needed_. Dean buried his hands in the angel’s hair to ground himself, but he found himself using his new position to tilt Cas’ head and kiss deeper still.

Dean pulled back slightly to gauge Cas’ reaction. The hand that had been resting gently over his t-shirt was now bunched up in the fabric and pulling him closer. Cas’ eyes were dark, his lips parted and swollen; he looked absolutely wrecked. Dean knew he was a virgin, but it hadn’t dawned on him, until that moment, that he’d probably never so much as kissed anyone before either. Dean began to rethink giving in to his impulses. Maybe they should take things slow...

Then Cas breathed  
“We don’t have to. We don’t have to do this... if you don’t want to.”

Cas hesitated for only a moment. He slipped his hand under Dean’s shirt and set it flat against his bare chest. The feeling of Grace thrumming away in Dean’s veins was constant and steady now. It was new, but not unwelcome. He could see how, given time, it could just become a part of him. The sensation would no longer be so overwhelming. Already, it was starting to feel like it belonged there; like it had always belonged there.

“Dean,” Cas breathed again. “I want you to continue.”

Dean took a moment to look into Cas’ eyes. He remembered how he used to find them expressionless.   
How Cas had seemed so inhuman and cold. But now he could read the most subtle changes in Castiel’s mood just by looking into his eyes. Were Cas’ mannerisms becoming more human or was Dean just learning how to read him better? Either way, Castiel’s eyes were currently telling Dean everything he needed to know.

Then Dean was kissing him again and pushing him back into the mattress. Cas’ right hand remained flat against Dean’s bare chest, but his left hand was beginning to slowly explore. It roamed across Dean’s hip and up his back until it too was under Dean’s t-shirt. Dean took the hint and tossed his shirt aside in a hurry.

Cas’ eyes were immediately drawn to the handprint scar marking Dean’s shoulder. He traced it lightly with his fingertips, outlining the edges of the stigmata his Grace had burned into Dean the very first time they’d met. Despite having ‘healed everything,’ Cas still had left that mark there. It marked Dean as his. He’d touched Dean’s soul, pulled him from Hell, and pieced his body back together. He knew every molecule that made up Dean Winchester. Seeing his mark on him ignited something primal in him and he couldn’t bring himself to remove it.

Cas’ gaze shifted from the scar to Dean’s eyes and they both froze for a long moment. Dean tugged the knot of Cas’ tie loose before slowly pulling it off of his neck. The tie soon joined Dean’s shirt on the floor. When he resumed their kiss Dean started popping the buttons of Cas’ shirt one by one, almost going intentionally slow, both out of caution for Cas’ virginal senses and as a way to tease.

Cas was becoming more bold as they went on. Both hands now roamed freely over Dean’s bare chest and back exploring every bump and imperfection that he found. It was almost as if Cas was memorizing Dean's body by touch, even though he knew every minute detail from his resurrection. As far as Dean was concerned, he could take his time and relearn his body with his vessel's senses. Dean certainly wasn’t going to complain as it felt so good to have those hands all over him, long fingers gliding over every inch of visible skin and causing the Grace inside of him to flare with excitement.

With the last button popped, Dean pulled Cas into a sitting position and pushed all three layers of clothing off of Castiel’s shoulders at once. The dress shirt and suit jacket were easy to discard, but Castiel was partially sitting on the trench coat and it took some maneuvering to toss it aside. 

As soon as Castiel had settled back down on the bed, Dean straddled his lap and pushed him back against the pillows. Cas’ eyes had gone even darker, pupils dilated to their extreme. It thrilled Dean to think that Cas was connecting with his human form in such a way. Cas was _feeling_. His cheeks were red, his lips were parted, and he was beginning to pant heavily. He was _aroused_. 

Dean leaned over and cupped Castiel’s face with both hands. He ran his thumbs over Cas’ cheeks and just appreciated him. Cas was beautiful. Sure, his vessel was handsome, but Dean felt like he’d be able to see the beauty of his Grace no matter what face he was wearing.

Dean kissed him again and rutted against him, pressing their growing erections against each other through their clothing. To Dean’s surprise, Castiel was grinding back against him, catching on to the mechanics of it with a surprising amount of ease. He was even more surprised when the angel reached between them and started undoing Dean’s jeans. When Cas had finished unzipping them, Dean quickly discarded them. Castiel’s own pants were mojoed away a second later, which caused Dean to pause before climbing back on top of him.

“Dude,” Dean said. Castiel tilted his head in confusion. “You mojoing in the bedroom might get a little weird...”

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said, pulling back ever so slightly.

“What? No, no need to be sorry,” Dean said as he settled back on Cas’ lap. “I didn’t mean stop it or whatever. Just... this is just different.”

“I know,” Cas said. It was only then that Dean remembered just how different it all must be for Cas too. They were both embarking on uncharted territory. They’d figure it out together.

Dean pushed the angel back against the mattress again. Castiel could be unmovable, but he seemed more than happy to let Dean control him just then. Dean almost couldn’t believe that he’d been granted that kind of power over such a miraculous creature. Castiel was willingly let him take charge and it thrilled Dean even more than he expected. 

Without breaking eye contact, Dean cupped Castiel through his boxers and gently stroked him. Castiel shuddered. His mouth opened slightly and his breathing deepened. Castiel’s body was fully engaged at that point, whether the angel was aware of it or not. He almost looked lost in the sensations. But he didn’t seem to mind being slightly out of control of his vessel. He was actually enjoying it if the expression on his face was any indicator. 

As Castiel experienced the physical sensations associated with the human body for the first time, Dean experienced the pleasure radiating from the Grace inside him. Dean could feel the Grace pounding in his own chest. It must have been even more intense for Castiel since Grace made up the majority of what he was. Dean could only imagine how amplified it was for him. Dean hooked his fingers under the waistband of the angel’s boxers. He slowed their momentum at this point, teasing the boxers down Castiel’s hips until his erection was freed. Castiel kept his eyes on Dean’s as the hunter slid his underwear down his legs and threw it on the growing pile of clothing on the floor. Dean’s joined them a second later and when he settled back onto Cas’ lap there were no layers left between them. Dean took Castiel’s cock in hand and pumped it slowly, experimenting with a touch he knew the angel had never felt before. Castiel’s eyes rolled back into his head and he moaned.

“This is the first time you’ve been touched, isn’t it,” Dean said.

“You’ve asked me this before,” Cas panted.

“Yeah, that was months ago. Figured you could have gotten some since then.” Dean knew that wasn’t the case, but he liked hearing Castiel breathlessly try to respond to him.

“Well, I haven’t,” Cas said, gasping slightly when Dean stroked up his length slowly. He’d begun to thrust into Dean’s hand at this point. Dean wasn’t even sure the angel knew he was doing it, but either way it stroked Dean’s ego to think he could make an angel, no, _this angel_ , come undone like this.

Dean kissed Cas on the lips lightly before slithered down the mattress. When he was even with Cas’ erection he bent over and took him into his mouth. Cas cried out so loudly this time Dean was sure Bobby could hear them. But he didn’t really care. He could hardly think beyond the salty taste of Castiel’s precome and the heat that was surging through the both of them. 

He licked at the soft skin just under the head that Dean knew felt good when teased _just like this_. Cas bucked up into his mouth this time and Dean was no match for his strength. He would have choked if he hadn’t been anticipating it. But he knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of your very first blow job and he had predicted how Castiel would react. He managed to ride out the thrust without stopping.

Dean hadn’t given head since long before Hell. On earth it’d probably been at least three or four years. Adding his time in Hell onto it and, well, it was more than a lifetime ago. But he knew just how to lick and suck in a way that could drive anyone insane, even a powerful angel. Cas’ fingers were tightening in his hair, though, and he was starting to breathe in a way that indicated an impending orgasm. It was quick and shallow and on the verge of a scream.

But Dean wasn’t sure he wanted this to be over. Not yet. He released Cas’ cock and climbed back up the angel’s body until their faces were just inches apart.

“Cas?”

“Dean,” Cas drawled as he struggled to keep his eyes open.

“How far are you going to let me take this?”

Cas slung both arms around Dean’s neck and pulled him down for a kiss. He was aggressive this time, exploring Dean’s mouth with his tongue without reservation. He thrusted his hips against Dean, desperate for friction. That was almost enough of an answer for Dean, but he wanted to be sure.

“I want to fuck you, Cas,” he whispered into his mouth.

“Dean, please...” Suddenly Castiel was shoving a tube of lube into Dean’s hand and the hunter was briefly thrown off guard.

“Did you... did you just mojo a bottle of lube?”

“Dean, please, I’m finding I have very little patience at this moment,” Castiel growled.

Dean didn’t need to be told twice. If Castiel wanted to cheat and use angel magic to speed things along, fuck, Dean wasn’t going to argue. Not when the benefits of it were so obvious. Maybe next time they could get past the whole clothes situation even faster. That part was always a nice build up, but it seemed rather tedious to Dean sometimes.

Dean slicked up a finger and slid it slowly into Cas. The angel reacted abruptly, clenching tightly and grunting at the sensation. Cas’ hands found their way to Dean’s shoulders, one slotting firmly over the handprint, and he squeezed gently as he forced himself to relax. Cas shut his eyes and exhaled slowly again, letting his human body’s natural responses take over.

Dean kissed him again before sliding a second finger in. Castiel took the second finger easier than the first, even pushing back against Dean’s fingers in an attempt to bury them deeper inside himself. Castiel was letting Dean drive, but he was a fast learner. He was slowly fucking himself on Dean’s fingers, loosening himself up and enjoying every moment of it.

“You’re taking to the sex thing better than I expected,” Dean teased as he started to spread him apart.

“I may be a virgin, but...” Cas gasped and knocked his head back against the pillow as Dean brushed lightly over his prostate. “But... but I’m not naive. I know... _Dean_... I know the mechanics of it... know what to expect.”

Dean chuckled softly as he slid in a third finger smoothly. Watching Cas lose control was way too much fun. He wasn’t even sure Cas needed the last bit of preparation, but he wanted to be certain his first time was going to be good and Dean was enjoying watching him on the brink of his first orgasm. He could experiment with Castiel’s pain tolerance later. Right now he just wanted everything to be perfect.

“You’re beautiful, Cas,” Dean said as he left soft kisses against the angel’s neck and jaw.

“Dean please.”

“Fuck, Cas.” Dean removed his fingers and quickly replaced it with his own cock. They both moaned then, unable to think beyond how perfect the stretch and the pressure felt. 

His mind only briefly paused to consider the fact that he was currently buried deep inside an angel. An angel he’d just given a blow job to a moment ago. And that angel was actually _encouraging_ it. _Enjoying it._ Dean’s life was weird. But when it came to this he found it hard to complain.

When he started to move all his thoughts evaporated. There was just Cas below him - around him. There was just heat and pressure. His body was vibrating with physical and spiritual pleasure and he could hardly control himself. Every moment seemed to strengthen their connection until they were both driving each other crazy with their own feelings. Dean was thrusting, his heart was pounding, and his soul was practically exploding with life as it danced with Castiel’s Grace in his chest.

Castiel’s eyes seemed to be glowing then. But it wasn’t blinding like Dean’s previous encounters with Cas’ Grace had been. He could actually see it this time. It was all the colors of the rainbow - and then some - shining to their full intensity. _This_ is what Dean had seen coming for him in Hell. As soon as it had touched him, Dean knew he was safe. At any other time, a flashback from Hell would have been a mood killer, but the emotions associated with that first touch were so overwhelmingly positive, it made this experience even better. _This was the real Castiel._

When they came together, everything went white. Whether it was his own brain flooding with chemicals or Castiel popping out of his vessel he wasn’t sure. But it sent a jolt through his system that rendered him exhausted. He barely had enough coherence to pull out and lay on the bed after. It was only with Castiel’s assistance that he managed to not collapse completely.

He’d experienced mind blowing orgasms in the past, but this was downright debilitating. He was vaguely aware of Cas holding him and soothing him as he drifted off to sleep, but he found it difficult to rouse himself out of consciousness long enough to evaluate the situation. Castiel was there with him and that’s all that mattered at that moment.


	5. Chapter Four

“I don’t mean to interrupt your little party,” Crowley drawled as he stood at the end of the bed and smirked at the sight before him. “But I’ve made my decision earlier than expected.”

Dean shot up, realizing he was still completely naked with a highly obnoxious and dangerous demon in the room. Castiel stood up from the bed, suddenly fully clothed and Dean wondered why the hell Castiel hadn’t bothered to mojo him into some clothes too. Dean wasn’t exactly shy about his body, but Crowley was the last being he wanted to feel even slightly vulnerable around.

Cas and Crowley seemed to have a silent conversation between each other for a moment and Dean wondered if they were having a psychic chit-chat or just trying to stare each other down. Either way, it did nothing to ease Dean’s awkwardness with the whole situation.

“Dean,” Castiel said as he took his eyes off Crowley for a brief moment. “Gather your clothes and meet us in Bobby’s study.”

“I don’t know; if Dean shows up without clothes I may throw a few more perks into the contract.”

When Cas began glaring at the demon again, Crowley put his hands in the air as a mock sign of surrender. “He’s your territory. I’ll keep my hands off, but looking certainly isn’t off limits.”

“We are leaving,” Cas said, and in flutter of wings he and Crowley were gone.

-

Dean grabbed his clothes off the floor and rushed down to Bobby’s study. When he got there, Bobby was just sitting down at his desk with a steaming cup of coffee and a resigned expression on his face. He was clearly ready to face whatever was coming at them. Cas and Crowley were standing on opposite ends of the room, which left Dean standing in the doorway. He debated entering the room, but didn’t want to feel trapped with Crowley. Dean moved his arm slightly and could feel the reassuring weight of Ruby’s demon-killing knife resting in the inner pocket of his jacket. Though Castiel made him feel safe, his instinct around demons was to always have a plan.

“Now that all parties are present, let’s get down to business,” Crowley said as he pulled a suitcase out of thin air.

The demon opened it and pulled out a large roll of paper. When he unrolled it across Bobby’s desk, it spilled over the edge and tumbled onto the floor. Bobby sighed and began reading the document, while Crowley began summarizing it with the same enthusiasm a used car salesmen might give to a lookie Lou.

“You boys may have been unaware of my new position. Crowley, King of Hell, head honcho downstairs now.”

“Guess it’d have been too much to ask for you to share that with us before,” Bobby interjected as he scanned the document.

“I have more power than you think nowadays,” Crowley continued. “I can get you into Hell safely. I can get you within throwing distance of Lucifer’s cage. Now, getting into it is another task all together. You see, the cage has become quite the tourist attraction down there. Everyone wants to take a look at the two archangels that are currently calling Hell their prison. And Lucifer loyalists make it rather difficult for anyone of importance to get near the cage. There’ve been…attacks.

“To make a long story short what I need is a bodyguard. An angel with near archangel power would make a perfect bodyguard,” Crowley said as he looked towards Cas. “You can come along for the ride, lover boy, but your role in this is minimal. Consider your access to your brothers’ souls as a bonus from me to you. A ‘thank you’ for helping me in the past. Just stay out of my way and you can pick up the leftovers from the cage when Cas and I are finished.

“You see, something far more important than two troublesome Winchester souls is down there in that cage: archangels. Two of them, in fact. Two of the most powerful creatures in all of existence.” Crowley looked away from Dean and turned to Cas. “Things aren’t going well for you in Heaven, are they?”

Dean turned to look at the angel. “Cas?”

“Oh? Don’t you know?” Crowley said without taking his eyes off the angel. “Cas here is public enemy number one upstairs.”

“Dean, I didn’t want to worry you,” Cas said when he looked at Dean. His eyes were strangely sad, almost apologetic. “This is beyond your control. There’s nothing you can do and it has nothing to do with Sam, so I didn’t feel the need to tell you.”

“What? What the hell are we talking about here?”

“I...” Castiel paused and exhaled. It was obvious that he was having trouble finding the right words to explain the situation. “Raphael wants to finish what his brothers started. He wants to restart the apocalypse, and to finish it as it was prophesied. He wants Heaven on Earth.”

“And I think I can say for certain that the one thing the three of us have in common is that none of us want that,” Crowley interjected.

“I and many others do not want armageddon. Our opposition has upset those who remain loyal to Raphael. Some have gone so far as to call us apostates for speaking against the last archangel in Heaven. They say we have renounced our faith in God's plan through the vessels of His will. I’ve become...a sort of symbol for those that wish to prevent the apocalypse. I’m not very well liked by Raphael or his followers. And they just happen to be the majority.”

“So wait, you’re basically the Princess Leia of Heaven?”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Dude, really? On Earth for years and you haven’t gotten around to Star Wars yet?” Dean shook his head, momentarily caught up with the urge to tie the angel to a chair and make him watch one of the greatest films in existence. He had to focus, though. Every second that ticked by was several hours that his brother was trapped in the cage. “And what the hell can paying Mikey and Luci a visit do to help you?”

“There are certain rituals...”

“Christ,” Dean snapped. “You can’t be serious. Rituals?”

“They can strip an archangel of its power. With my new strength I would be the most powerful angel in existence. I can take control of the garrison and ensure that the apocalypse doesn’t begin again.”

“And with Lucifer bound in the cage,” Crowley cut in. “I’m undeniably the top dog. The great thing about this spell is that it’s permanent. Lucifer would forever be weakened. His cronies would be fighting a losing battle and I’d always be more powerful than him. Bust him out of the cage? Fine. But he’d never be able to defeat me.”

“What’s it do to them? Make them human?”

“No,” Castiel said. “They’d still be angels. They’d just be weaker than a Cherubim.”

“And what are you?”

“Now? I don’t know. Something...new. But before that I was also a Cherubim. The majority of angels are classified as such. How I’ve managed to survive before I was given my current level of power is somewhat of a miracle.”

“Miracle?” Dean chuckled. “Makes you sound more like a Winchester. We’re too stubborn to die. But still, it doesn’t explain your interest in Mikey and Luci. Why do you need to get to them if you can just bind them or whatever?”

“The ritual needs an archangel feather,” Castiel said. “It would be easier to pluck one from Michael or Lucifer, than Raphael, at this point in time.”

Dean folded his arms and looked at Bobby who was still reading the contract. “Bobby?”

“I’m no expert on legalese, but this contract seems to tip in our favor. I get my soul back. You get a shot at your brothers. Cas and Crowley get an archangel feather. All ya gotta do is get Crowley into the cage.”

“So you think we should take this?”

“What else we got, kid? It’s this or start back at square one.”

Dean turned to Crowley who was smirking at them both. Dean knew that something had to be hidden in that contract. Crowley was the King of the Crossroads - no, King of _Hell_ \- he always had an ace up his sleeve. As Bobby said, he was a pro. But he had to do something.

“Fine,” Dean said eventually. “Where do we sign.”

“No signature required,” Crowley said as he held up a small butterfly knife. “Just bleed on the parchment and we’re golden.”

-

When they landed in Hell, Dean immediately tensed. He remembered the rock landscape, the caves filled with tortured souls, the fires of Hell casting a constant red glow on everything. He remembered being strung up in a canyon when he first arrived, chains holding him in place as he roasted over the fires. That, however, was before they moved him to one of the torture rooms where Alistair did his work. After that, exposure to the fires would have been preferable.

Even now he could hear souls screaming in agony as demons found new and creative ways to cause them pain. Nothing had changed. The King may be different, but Hell was still a place of never-ending torture and trauma.

Cas took Dean’s hand immediately when he sensed his fear. The contact calmed Dean, but when the hunter turned around he gasped and his heart began to pound again. This time it wasn’t out of fear. It was awe. Cas' wings were fully visible to Dean's human eyesight: large, white, and beautiful. They were practically glowing with the power of Cas’ Grace thrumming away just below the skin.

Dean was so stunned, he had stopped thinking about about the horrifying world around him. Cas’ wings were arched high in the air and an overwhelming sense of safety coursed through the hunter. He’d seen their shadows before, but he didn’t have the ability to see their physical form...until now. Dean never considered the notion that he’d have the chance to see Cas’ wings with his own eyes. And yet there they were...

“I plan on remodeling,” Crowley quipped, snapping Dean out of his temporary distraction. “The original creators lacked creativity. Fire and brimstone? Really? I can think of a dozen things more terrifying. How about endless bureaucracy? Lines that never end, rooms filled with files stretching for miles...actual red tape.” Crowley laughed smugly at his own joke.

Dean was surprised to find that he could breathe normally in Hell. The Grace inside of him seemed to subconsciously protect him from the harsh terrain. He could definitely go for a tall glass of lemonade, but otherwise he felt pretty damn comfortable. Dean remembered a heat blistering his skin that he no longer felt, and the expected everyday pain and agony that seeped into your bones after forty years of simply existing in that environment was not present. His lungs weren’t on fire with every inhale and exhale. His eyes weren’t watering from the smoky brimstone and seared flesh.

Crowley whistled and a few seconds later a hellhound came walking down the hallway. Dean’s grip on Cas’ hand tightened when the large black beast began to approach them. Cas squeezed Dean’s hand back reassuringly. The hunter hadn’t seen a Hellhound since Lillith’s beast dragged his soul to Hell, but he remembered every agonizing detail of the encounter. Even after years of being carved like a turkey by Alistair, Dean could recall what it felt like to have their claws digging through his gut.

“Relax. This one is mine. Growley, meet Castiel and Dean Winchester. Dean, Cas, meet Growley.” The large black beast sat obediently beside his demon master. It was certainly reminiscent of the hellhounds that pulled Dean apart the first time, but larger and, strangely, almost cuter in the way it wagged its tail when Crowley reached out and scratched him behind his ears. Dean didn’t let the thought of calling the beast ‘cute’ last for more than a second, though. These creatures were certainly _not cute_.

“He won’t hurt you unless I tell him to. Now come along,” Crowley said as he turned down one of the corridors. “Let’s not announce to the opposition that we’re coming.”

-

When they exited the large maze of brimstone corridors, they found themselves in a large canyon, much like the one that Dean first encountered upon his arrival to Hell. A large black box was suspended from the opposite cliff face by a gigantic red vine that twisted and pulsated all around the obsidian surface. The vine seemed to be alive and Dean wondered how he went forty years in Hell, ten of which he had been given more freedom to roam through Hell’s dark and twisted caverns, and never encountered anything like this before.

Between them and the cage were several hundred demons milling about. Several of them stopped and stared at them, but most were completely enthralled by the cage. The majority of the demons lacked bodies and appeared as black and rotting figured that resembled a charred human form. These were the types of demons Dean saw every day for 40 years. This was what Alistair had looked like before he walked the earth.

Near the base of the box Dean spotted a small, but heavily fortified door. It seemed to be the only way in or out of the box. Crowley hadn’t mentioned needing help with the door so Dean didn’t spend more than a passing second thinking about how they were going to get past it. Instead he needed to focus on getting the demon through the crowd of onlookers that had gathered. That was what the contract discussed. If they could get Crowley to that door they’d have a shot at saving Sam... and Adam.

Growley led the way with Crowley just a step behind him. Dean and Cas brought up the rear of their little party as they began passing through the crowd. One of Cas’ wings protectively hovered around Dean to shield him from any immediate dangers. Dean had Ruby’s knife in one hand and an open flask of holy water in the other, but considering the environment he was in, he felt like those were pretty ineffective as any sort of real defense. He had two other flasks in his pockets and a shotgun loaded with rock salt slung across his back, but it was Castiel who had the best chance of fighting back at any sort of attack. All he had to do was lay his hand on a demon and that was that.

The crowd was getting thicker the closer they got to the box. Dean noticed that almost every single demon was staring at them by that point. Some stepped out of the way as they approached while others had to be nudged aside by Growley. Castiel’s wing pulled Dean even closer until they were shoulder to shoulder as they pushed through the crowd towards the cage. The Grace in Dean thrummed with the contact.

Then the crowd began to push _back._

Crowley was suddenly pressed against Castiel and Dean and his hellhound began to snarl and bark at the crowd. The panic had intensified quickly. It was suddenly chaos as demons were shouting and clawing and groping at them.

“That’s it,” Crowley said. “This attempt is over. This is Luci’s crowd. Catch you later.”

Crowley and Growley disappeared, but the space they’d been occupying was immediately filled with angry demons. He heard Castiel cry out and Dean immediately flung the flask of water at the creature gnawing on Cas’ right wing. Castiel was already unleashing his Grace from his body and soon they were surrounded by the multi colored light that Dean was recognized as Castiel’s true form. The light from the wound drove the closest demons back a step, but a few seconds later they were advancing on them again.

He felt Castiel grab onto his arm, hand slotting directly over the print left the last time Cas had pulled him from perdition, and abruptly everything became a blur. Dean felt the snapping sensation that accompanied crossing between two dimensions and suddenly there was nothing but cool air rushing past them at an alarming speed. They were _falling_ , but Castiel was holding Dean tightly to his chest.

They started to twist mid air as the ground came rushing towards them and Castiel spread his wings out as wide as they would go. Their descent immediately slowed, but Dean could now see extent of the damage the demon had caused. He could tell that Castiel was straining to keep them steady. He could feel it deep inside his chest just as easily as he could see it painted across Cas’ features. The wound was deep and incredibly painful, but Cas was too determined to let the injury hold him back.

They came to a stop slowly just inches above the ground. Castiel was very careful to set Dean feet first on the dirt before releasing him, but the second Cas let go it was Dean who was in charge of keeping them on their feet. Castiel’s injury was leaking blood and Grace and he was in no condition to do anything more than hobble up to the house. Though even that appeared to be almost too difficult of a task for Castiel.

“Bobby can’t see it,” Castiel said as he looked at his injured wing. “My Grace. It will blind him.”

“Bobby!” Dean shouted as he opened the door. “Lock your door unless you want your eyes melted out of your head!” He heard Bobby’s study door slam shut and he rushed Castiel to the couch. He heard his phone buzz in his pocket, but he didn’t reach for it until Castiel was comfortably seated across the cushions. Priority number one was getting Castiel somewhere that would give him a chance to recover from his wounds.

_What’s going on?_ Bobby texted.

_Cas injured. Sam still in pit. Grace leaking everywhere_ , Dean replied.

_Get me when he’s patched up._

Dean pulled the med kit from under the couch and immediately went to work on cleaning out the wound. The flesh was torn and several blood soaked feather hung precariously from his wing. He looked like a complete mess.

“Why don’t your wings heal like the rest of you?”

“It’s the most physical form my Grace can take. Grace doesn’t heal as easily as my vessel does. They were injured when we met at the barn, but you couldn’t perceive that at the time.”

“They weren’t leaking Grace, though. I think I would have saw that. Before my eyes melted, anyway.”

“No. They were singed from the fires. The skin wasn’t pierced.”

Dean imagined that Sam would be full of questions at that point, but Dean could only muster up an apathetic humming noise. He cleaned out the wound and began to stitch it up. Dean was impressed that Castiel only let out the slightest of noises when the needle first pierced his wing. He knew how raw it felt to have his soul tampered with and now that he could feel what it was like to have Grace in him he understood just how much more intense it must have been. It must have been agonizing.

“What now?” Dean asked as he finished up his work on Castiel’s injury.

“We try something else.”

“What else? I thought that was pretty much our last ditch plan there. I’ve got no other ideas here, Cas. We just gotta go in again.”

“Yes, I agree. But we need to be better prepared.”

“How?”

“I think I may have an idea...” Castiel fell silent.

“Care to share with the class?”

“Dean,” Cas sighed. He hesitated momentarily before continuing. “This will require a large commitment on your part. But it will drastically increase our strength and give us a better shot at saving your brother.”

“I’m listening.”

“Dean, this...” Castiel paused again, carefully considering his next words. “If I give you more of my Grace you may gain enough abilities to fight past hordes of demons.”

“Would I even be human at that point?”

“Probably not.”

“Then what would I be exactly?”

“I’m not sure.” There was an awkward moment of silence. “I know how you feel about your humanity. I know you want to keep it at all costs--”

“Not at all costs, Cas. This is Sam, so...yes. Mojo me. Let’s get this done with.”

“I feel like I need to be more straightforward with you before we proceed.”

“Cas, I already agreed.”

“Dean, this is a cosmic event. The only being who creates angels is God. But I’m giving you a bit of myself. You would in essence be an extension of my own Grace merged with your soul. This is has never been done. I have no idea what the result will be. I can only speculate.”

“But it’ll help us get Sam.”

“Most likely.”

“Then do it.”

“I must warn you, it’ll take some time for the Grace to settle inside of you and for my own to replenish enough to strike again.”

“How long?”

“My own Grace will take a few hours to strengthen. What I’m giving you could take longer.”

_“Dammit!”_

“Again, this is _cosmic_. We’ll both need to recover.”

“Then let’s get started. No point dancing around it.” Dean sat on the coffee table right across from Cas and looked at him expectantly. Cas leaned forward, wincing slightly as his right wing stretched against the stitches.

“Whoa, wait,” Dean said suddenly. “Maybe you should wait until your Grace isn’t leaking out of you before you try to give me some of it.”

“Dean, if I wasn’t capable of doing this, I wouldn’t have offered.”

“Bullshit. I’ve seen you pushing yourself beyond your limits before. Not now, Cas. I can’t lose you too.”

“You won’t. My Grace will need replenishing either way. It’s either now or later. It doesn’t particularly matter when it happens.”

Dean gulped, finally settling into the idea that he was about to take a huge plunge into the unknown. “O-okay. Do it.”

“Do not be afraid, Dean. I would never harm you.” Cas reached out and cupped Dean’s face with his hands, much like had cupped Jimmy Novak’s face when he was lying on the floor dying in that warehouse. Castiel leaned forward and pressed his lips to Dean’s. He breathed slowly into Dean’s mouth, and the bright light of his Grace started to transfer from one body to the other. It filled his lungs with warmth and love and pure _Castiel_. The Grace that was already inside him was buzzing as the new amount began to flood his system.

Then Dean’s whole world went white again as every cell in his body altered itself to accommodate for Castiel’s Grace.


	6. Chapter Five

Dean’s senses were overwhelmed. It took him a full minute for his eyes to adjust to the brightness. All he could see was Grace. All he could _hear_ was Grace. It was pumping through his veins and pounding in his ears and it was so powerful   
he thought he'd be torn apart every time his heart beat, every time his Grace - and it was irrevocably his now - thrummed within him. He could hardly fill his lungs with air, yet each breath could be his last. He was filled to the brim and felt too small to contain it all within him. Any second he'd explode all over Bobby's living room.

When he started to be able to make out shapes in the light and see the world around him the first thing he was aware of was Castiel gripping him tightly by the shoulders. And his lips were moving... he was talking to him. It looked like he was saying his name, but Dean couldn’t hear a damn thing until he forced himself to concentrate on Cas and hear him over the sound of his own heartbeat. He focused on Castiel’s mouth and shut everything else out.

“Dean! Please calm down!”

“Wh-” The moment Dean made a sound all the glass in the room shattered and Castiel quickly put his hand over his mouth keeping Dean from uttering anything else.

_What’s happening to me?_ Dean thought in Castiel’s direction. Even though he was certain Castiel could listen in on his thoughts, this felt more like projecting his voice into the angel’s head. He wasn’t quite sure how he knew how to do it. Part of him, _it must be the Grace_ , just knew, like it was an ingrained instinct, and it seemed like a good time to use it since his voice was apparently now a deadly force.

“Dean, it just needs to settle. I’m sorry, I didn’t adequately prepare you for this. I-”

“CAS!” The entire house shook as Dean let his guard down and spoke with his new Grace imbued ‘true’ voice again.

“What the hell is going on in my living room,” Bobby shouted from the study. Dean could hear him as if he was right there in the room with them. Was he hearing him clearly from such a distance all the way across the house? Was he hearing Bobby’s thoughts? It was all too much. Sights. Sounds. Sensations in his mind that overwhelmed the physical and made him lose track of his own body.

_What’s happening?_ Dean screamed telepathically at Cas.

Cas kept holding Dean’s mouth shut long enough to tell Bobby to stay out. Dean wasn’t sure if Cas’ lips moved that time or not. Cas might have yelled at Bobby or he might have mojoed it directly into his mind just like Dean was doing to Castiel just moments ago. Dean just couldn’t tell the difference anymore. He just _heard_ Castiel. He heard _everything._ It was blurring together and overwhelming him and he just couldn’t take it!

“Focus, Dean,” Cas said as he took Dean’s face in both hands. Dean’s attention went directly to Cas’ eyes. The hunter felt calmer then, though he still felt out of control on the inside where the Grace was vibrating through every cell in his body. Something about Castiel’s proximity made managing the transformation that was taking place seem doable. “Dean, please, just focus on your physical form.”

_I’d rather focus on yours,_ Dean quipped, not letting the chance to make a joke slip by no matter how dire his situation was. Dean smirked slightly, but it didn’t take long for him to start to panic again as he began to think about just what was happening to him. There was an overwhelming amount of energy coursing through every part in his body and he had no idea how to control it. If he wasn’t careful, he might explode and if he’s lucky he’d just make a mess in Bobby’s living room. If he was unlucky, he might take the whole damn house with him.

“Very well,” Cas said. Then the angel was kissing him.

That’s when everything stopped.

Though the feeling of Grace was still thrumming away strongly through him, he could feel his body again just as it should be. He once again felt connected to his flesh; able to hear, feel, and smell everything with his human senses instead of it being amplified by the Grace inside of him. He could feel his lips pressed against Cas’ and his hands gripping tightly onto the angel’s arms in an attempt to steady himself. He could feel Castiel holding him close to calm him. Dean moved his hands up Castiel’s arms, up his neck, and to the angel’s face. He kissed Cas deeper, enjoying the sensations of being in control of his body once again. For a brief moment he felt entirely human. He felt like himself from long before Stull - long before _Hell_. 

Dean felt Castiel’s wings cocooning around them as they kissed and he couldn’t help but pull back to look at them. They were breathtaking. And he was drawn to them in a way he couldn’t quite explain. They were pulling him in, beckoning him to touch them. He reached out, but paused an inch away. He looked at Castiel to gauge a reaction. When Cas nodded Dean took that as permission to make contact with his wings.

His touch was hesitant at first, just the tips of his fingers gliding across the edges of his silky feathers. The skin underneath the feathers was soft, but he could feel the Heavenly power pulsating just below the skin just as clearly as he could see the Grace shimmering across the surface. It was more intense now that it had been when he was patching him up. He could feel the energy now and recognize it for what it was. The Grace within him reacted positively to the touch and he felt just a bit more in control than he had been moments ago. Dean carded his fingers through the feathers and massaged the warm skin underneath.

When Castiel took a sharp intake of breath Dean paused to analyze the angel’s reaction. Did that hurt? Dean was careful to avoid the injured area. No. This was _arousal_. Castiel was turned on by this. It shouldn’t have been a surprise considering they’d just been kissing, but he’d gotten lost in the breathtaking beauty of his wings.

Dean let his fingers card through the feathers again and Castiel shivered.

“Cas?”

Cas looked up at him with dark eyes, lips parted, and breath already beginning to shallow. Dean could feel his own arousal stirring, a human reaction that Dean was all too familiar with, and he finally felt completely in control of his own body. Apparently the physical contact was helping them _both_ connect with their human forms and Dean certainly wasn’t going to complain about it. He learned a valuable skill and got to have sex at the same time? What was there to complain about?

“This is helping,” Cas said. It wasn’t even a question.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“You’re speaking with your own voice.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, only realizing that was the case when he was told so. “I suppose I am.”

“You need to control it as you are doing so now. You need to learn before we make our move.”

“If... if this is helping, we should do more of it, yeah?” Dean smirked.

Cas tilted his head, looking like he was momentarily considering the situation, but he soon smirked back at him and kissed Dean again. It was a slow languid kiss that made Dean excited every cell in Dean’s body.

Suddenly Cas lifted Dean and placed him on his back against the couch. Cas had one hand on the seat cushion beside Dean’s head and the other gripping onto the back of the couch to keep himself steady as he hovered over the hunter. The arousal that was already growing spiked when Dean realized just how badly he wanted Castiel to take charge.

Castiel’s wings blanketed them as they lay on the couch lazily kissing one another. Dean reached out and carded his fingers through the feathers again. This seemed to push their lazy kissing into more passionate territory, but Castiel seemed to be allowing it. If Cas was allowing it, it couldn’t be _that_ dangerous. And at that point Dean was more than comfortable giving Castiel control of the situation. Dean had been with many partners, but nothing had come close to what he felt just then. His body exuded power from the grace inside of him and as much as he liked being in charge, there was something about Castiel that made him want to surrender to him. Cas had the experience in reconciling grace within a human vessel and Dean knew that following one's expertise is what kept Hunters alive in the field and what made a sexual experience memorable rather than mediocre. If anyone was going to know just what Dean’s limits were right now, it was Cas.

Dean wanted more though. He wanted to feel Cas’ skin, his _physical body_ , along with the grace. Dean needed Cas to consume him. He needed everything from the angel he could get. The comforting caress of his Grace, the soft press of his lips, and dammit, Dean just wanted Cas inside of him in any way he could get.

Dean had never bottomed before. He’d had sex with men in the past, but he’d always dominated his partners. Right now he actually wanted to _be_ dominated. He needed Cas to take him right then and there on the couch. It seemed like the only thing that could hold him together.

“Dean...” Cas moaned. He’d obviously been listening in to Dean’s internal monologue. If he concentrated, he could even feel the angel’s presence in his mind. And it was perfect. It didn’t feel like a violation of privacy as he may have considered it before. He just felt closer to the angel, more intimate than he’d ever been with anyone. And he liked it.

A second later their clothes were gone and Dean was temporarily stunned from the dramatic step forward. His earlier theory was right. It _did_ save time to use mojo in the bedroom, but it was also rather jarring. Dean wondered if his mojo would ever be able to do something like that. When his thoughts started to wander back to the Grace now resting inside of him he could slowly start to feel himself losing touch with his body again as the Grace began to thrum more profoundly under his skin.

“Dean,” Cas said, taking Dean’s face in one hand and forcing Dean to look him in the eyes. “Focus. Remember, concentrate on your physical body, on my touch, on what you can feel.”

Dean did. He concentrated on every part of his body that was currently touching Castiel. Cas moved his hand from Dean’s face and trailed it down his torso slowly, tantalizingly. Dean tugged slightly at Cas’ wings and bucked forward, craving more skin to skin contact. Castiel wasted no time dipping further, gliding his fingers along the soft skin of Dean’s thigh, resting a finger against Dean’s opening, putting the slightest bit of pressure against him and...

“Cas,” Dean said suddenly. The angel stopped what he was doing. “The last time we...” Dean just let his thoughts wander back to their previous encounter. Castiel could barely contain his Grace within his body. Dean could remember when he came, the blaring light that filled the room probably would have blinded someone who hadn’t been carrying around their own bit of Grace inside of them. If Cas could lose control like that...

“No,” Castiel interrupted. “I didn’t lose control. And neither will you. That was my Grace and my physical body connecting on a level that most angels never experience.” Castiel kissed Dean gently on the lips. “I think that’s exactly what you need.”

Dean nodded, once again trusting Castiel to make these decisions, and pushed back ever so slightly against Cas’ finger. Then Cas pushed in, lube seeming to just _be_ there. Once again Dean saw the benefits of adding mojo to their sex life, but he was honestly too distracted by the sensation of being penetrated to give it more than a passing thought. Cas was physically inside him and Dean knocked his head back against the couch, moaning Cas’ name.

Castiel mimicked Dean’s gestures from earlier, adding another finger and stretching Dean wide enough to accommodate him. All the new physical sensations began to dominate Dean’s mind. He’d never felt so full before. He’d never even considered that he might like it. And yet here he was, Castiel’s fingers buried deep inside of him stretching him open and Dean wanted more. 

Castiel’s presence was still in his mind, then, and when Castiel pulled his fingers out, Dean knew that he was doing exactly what Dean was craving. Dean felt the angel lining up, once again mimicking Dean’s earlier behavior. Dean tensed momentarily, but relaxed when he locked eyes with Cas. He wanted this. They both did. This is what they _needed_.

When Castiel sunk into him Dean lost any ability to think beyond the physical pleasure. Cas’ eyes were glowing again and Dean was pretty sure his were too, but again, thinking was far too difficult at that moment and he settled for crying out Cas’ name instead. His grip in the angel’s wings tightened, eliciting a moan from Castiel that shook the house.

If Bobby was still listening, trying to figure out what was going on in his living room, he was clearly taking the wiser, quieter approach. Dean couldn’t even sense him anymore. Perhaps he’d put in some headphones and was purposefully trying _not_ to know what was happening in there at that point.

Castiel began to slowly rock back and forth, taking a more cautious approach to sex than Dean had in his position the first time. This was the second time he and Castiel had sex, but it was the first time the angel was feeling what it was like to sink into someones tight heat. Dean remembered his first time. He’d nearly come immediately, but he forced himself to last for at least a minute before he just couldn’t control himself anymore.

With every thrust of Castiel’s hips, Dean clenched his hands tighter in his wings. Castiel was beautiful like this and Dean felt a sense of pride that only _he_ had ever seen the angel that way. With every tug at his wings, Castiel let out a small whimper of pleasure that Dean was desperate for more of. 

“Cas. _Cas_. Castiel!” Dean could feel the familiar tightening in his abdomen that indicated he was close. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Cas’. The Grace was right there below the surface, beautiful and comforting.

Castiel’s hips began to pick up the pace and Dean could recognize the signs of an impending orgasm. The angel’s cautionary pace was thrown out the window as he began jerking back and forth as he let his human need to orgasm take over. The first time Cas hit his prostate Dean was lost. He came between them and clenched around Cas, causing the angel to come a moment later. 

The world went white again as their Grace expanded out and filled the room. Only this time Dean had no doubts about what it was that he was seeing. This was pure Grace - _his_ Grace, and Castiel’s - intimately mingling with each other in a way that comforted Dean to the core. 

When their Grace retracted back into their bodies Cas collapsed on top of Dean, completely relaxed and absolutely spent. Dean’s hands went to the angel’s back and he began gently stroking the soft skin where his wings and his back met. Dean detected a slight shiver from Castiel when he did this, but the angel was far too spent to do much more than make a small noise of contentment.

Dean felt complete then. He felt his Grace and his body together, existing in harmony instead of struggling against each other as it had before when his Grace was trying to burn out his humanity. He felt at peace in a way he’d never really felt before. He may not be human anymore, but he felt ‘normal.’ He felt like Dean, just with a giant helping of Grace. And with Castiel pulled close to him, he felt calm and happy. He just felt perfect.


	7. Chapter Six

“You did what, kid?” Bobby leaned back in his chair and stared at Dean.

“Bobby, relax, I got it under control.”

“I don’t care how ‘under control’ you think you got it. Didn’t we just get done talkin’ about how we had to talk to each other before making big decisions? If I can’t bargain with _my own soul_ without gettin’ your permission first, what the hell makes you thinking pumping yourself up with mojo without warning me is a good idea?”

Dean didn’t have a good response to that. Bobby had a point. Dean felt like a major hypocrite, but when it came to saving his brother he knew he didn’t think rationally all the time. It’s how they got into this whole mess in the first place. But this decision just made sense to him and he didn’t regret it. If it even gave him the _slightest_ edge in getting Sam back it was worth it.

Meanwhile, Crowley laughed at the whole ordeal from the corner of the room while he scratched Growley behind the ears. The dog made a small barking noise and moved his head against Crowley’s hand, clearly enjoying the attention.

“Also, it’s really starting to creep me out that I’m the only one who can’t see this damn hellhound,” Bobby said gruffly as he crossed his arms and glared at Crowley. “I nearly tripped over him this mornin’ and hearing a hellhound growl at me is not my idea of starting the morning off on the right foot!”

“I’m sorry,” Dean said, bringing Bobby’s attention back to him. “You’re right, and I’m sorry. It was a quick decision. I didn’t stop to think about it but... but I don’t regret it. Bobby, I _had_ to.”

“Are you still human, kid?”

Dean hesitated. “Probably not.”

Bobby shook his head, but instead of continuing to argue he just sighed. Dean could tell he accepted the situation, but that didn’t really fix things between them any. Bobby was furious at Dean’s double standards and Dean didn’t really blame him. Bobby had given so much for them and Dean just turned around and acted without considering him for even a second.

“Right,” Crowley said as he pushed himself off the wall and stepped up to Castiel. “We should leave soon, before Lucifer’s loyalist start to prepare for our next inevitable attack. I’m well known in Hell for not giving up. So are you, actually. They’ll be waiting for us.”

“Dean and I will go,” Castiel said. “You’ll stay here.”

“What? No,” Crowley said incredulously. “Why would I ever do that?”

“Because Dean and I can lay to waste the entire valley surrounding the cage. You would be killed in the process.”

“You _might_ be able to do that, angel, but Dean, here is just as likely to fail on the battlefield. Do you think lover boy here will be able to control it when things get stressful?”

“I have faith in Dean’s abilities.”

“ _Faith_. Oh angel, that’s rich. And hey, let’s give Dean here the benefit of the doubt. Even if he could control it, how can I trust you to keep me in on this deal? I keep my promises. It’s part of the gig. But you two? I don’t trust you to hold up your end of the bargain. I’m protecting my investment by being there. I hired a bodyguard. Not a _partner._ ”

“Crowley, when this deal is done, I want you as the King of Hell,” Cas said as he stepped forward, crowding into Crowley’s personal space. “You are the only demon in power whose goals align with mine. We both want to prevent the apocalypse from restarting.”

Crowley crossed his arms and went silent as he looked Castiel up and down. It made sense. Though they were technically on opposing sides, their goals aligned and with the two of them in power there would be at least a truce in regards to the apocalypse. Even with Dean’s extremely hatred of the demon, he would rather have him in charge of Hell than almost any other candidate he could think of. It was a damn good deal.

“Fine,” Crowley said as he reached for the top button of his shirt.

“Um,” Dean said, unsure of exactly what the demon was doing. He knew the demon liked to kiss people to seal the deal, but _this?_

After two buttons Crowley made his intentions clear as he pulled out a golden pendant with three gemstones in a triangle pattern embedded in it. Dean recognized the colors; gold like War’s ring, a black gemstone like Famine’s, a green one like Pestilence’s, and the all too familiar white stone from Death’s ring. Dean knew the latter a little too well for his liking, but it at least allowed him to recognize it on sight.

“We buried those,” Dean said.

“Oh you did? I’ll file that bit away for later,” Crowley said. “But no, these aren’t the same, Deany boy. Cut from the same source material, yes, but not the same objects. There’s a lot going on in Hell neither of you even have a hint of knowledge about. There are other keys, guarded fiercely by those who possess them. There’s always been a powerplay downstairs. Ever since Lilith was created, those of us who were cast out of Heaven like Lucifer have been struggling to keep the playing field even.”

“And you’ve had one this whole time?” Dean snapped.

“Well, not this _whole_ time. I acquired it relatively recently.”

“How... wait, you know what? I don’t care.” Dean held his hands up and shook his head.

“That’s the spirit,” Crowley said as he held out the pendant towards Castiel. When the angel reached towards him Crowley gripped his hand and shook it. “Don’t disappoint me, angel,” he said as he squeezed his hand firmly.

Cas took the pendant from Crowley and put it on with the same reverence that he once used with Dean's amulet, slipping it beneath his shirt and tie until it rested over his heart. 

“Oh, and if you betray me? Growley will have Bobby a la mode for dinner tonight.”

“Hey,” Bobby said indignantly, but before Dean had a moment to respond Castiel had gripped him and teleporting them to hell.

-

They arrived on a bluff overlooking the cage. He felt even more comfortable in Hell this time, barely noticing the heat on his skin. The demons milling around the valley immediately took notice. Some began to flee while others prepared to fight. Dean felt ready this time. He was armed with Grace, not a flask of holy water or a magical weapon which may or may not get kicked out of his hand at any moment.

Castiel held his hand out and Dean took it. Cas was Dean’s anchor, a way to stay in control and focus on who and what he is amid the chaos. He needed that right now. He was about to utilize a part of him he’d only just begun to explore. Cas trusted that he could do it. And he trusted Cas. They could do it. They _had_ to. Lives were on the line. _Sam’s_ life was on the line.

Dean looked to Cas and nodded. The angel held his other hand out towards the valley and Dean mimicked him. Within a few seconds their grace was forming a powerful glow just in front of their palms. Castiel began to push his grace towards the crowd and Dean followed suit, tapping down into the Grace that’d settled inside of him. He felt Castiel pushing their Grace forward and he let himself be guided until their Grace drowned out the valley with light.

Demons began to scream as the holy light touched them. Dean could feel them burn as his grace decimated them, leaving only scorch marks on the ground or abandoned vessels in their wake. As their Grace rolled across the valley floor it left destruction, death, and a holy energy that was the antithesis of everything that Hell represented. 

When he felt Castiel squeeze his hand Dean began to pull back. The sight before him was astounding. Together they’d burned a hole through the crowd. The demons that were left were fleeing the valley, running for their lives, clearing the area as quickly as possible. They clearly weren’t prepared for the power of two angels to drop on them. He and Castiel seemed to have taken them off guard.

“They’ll be back and in greater numbers,” Castiel said. “We must move quickly.”

Castiel took a step off the ledge of the bluff, still holding onto Dean’s hand. Dean went with the flow, knowing that falling from a great height wasn’t a big concern for him at the moment. With Castiel as a companion and with his grace inside of him, he felt safe. Their priority was getting to the cage and a ten story drop wasn’t going to stop them.

They landed on the ground hard, but Cas wasted no time grabbing the necklace from around his neck and handing it to Dean. The hunter tossed it at the door, grimacing as the pendant clanged loudly against the metal, and quickly chanted the incantation needed to activate the gems. The door vibrated, shimmered, and then opened without being touched. They’d done it! They’d opened the cage. His brother was just beyond that threshold and he just had to push himself forward and cross it. 

Castiel had taken a protective stance behind Dean facing the few demons who still remained in sight, but as soon as the door was open wide enough he turned and stepped into the cage without hesitation. Dean took a deep breath out of habit, unphased by the sweltering air, and followed Castiel. He grabbed the pendant from the door and let it slam closed behind him.

Just on the other side of the door was small alcove sheltered by the red vines that were covering the outside of the cage. The shelter from the vines provided them a moment to get their plan of attack together. In the distance they could see bright lights shining through the twisted vines. He could recognize the light for what it- _Grace_ \- Michael and Lucifer in their true forms. They didn’t have faces like this, but Dean could sense that somehow they hadn’t been noticed their presence yet

They made their way towards them through the maze of red foliage that formed numerous corridors leading off in all directions. _Thank God those pricks are lit up like Christmas trees,_ Dean thought. Cas made a small noise of amusement, but it was short lived. They both were too focused to enjoy the moment of humor for more than a few second

When they rounded a corner the giant masses of energy that made up Michael and Lucifer became visible. They were squaring off in a large open cavern, clashing in mid air in giant blasts of light and noise. Dean saw Sam and Adam lying on the floor motionless. With any luck they were unconscious. They had both been taken to Hell whole. Dean knew the pain that Hell caused the soul, but thankfully he’d never had to experience it on his physical body before Cas’ mojo started to protect him. He could feel the heat against his skin, smell the sulfur and rotting flesh, but the Grace saved him from most of the pain. Sam and Adam were completely unprotected.

_I think we’re majorly overpowered here,_ Dean thought to Cas. They’d known that going in, but for the first time Dean actually let that realization sink in. He faltered slightly, staring at the battling balls of light in the distance with trepidation.

“We must act quickly,” Castiel said.

Dean felt Lucifer and Michael take note of them and watched as they ceased their fighting and stared at him and Castiel. Dean grabbed onto Castiel’s coat sleeve, instinctually needing to be closer to him, and braced himself for a fight. There was no turning back. It was him and Castiel against the two most powerful and most royally _pissed_ angels in all of existence.

“Grab your brothers and get out,” Castiel said. He looked back to Dean and kissed him softly on the mouth. “Let your Grace guide you home, Dean. It’ll get you there. I have faith in your abilities. _Save your brothers._ ”

“Cas?” Before Dean had a chance to think of the meaning behind Castiel’s words, the angel was glowing with Grace from head to toe and spreading his wings wide.

Castiel flew quickly towards the two archangels and when the Grace collided a thundering blast echoed through the room. The bright light emanating from the collision was nearly blinding, even with his new abilities, and Dean quickly shielded his eyes from the blast. Dean hesitated for a second before rushing out into the fray towards his brothers. He’d seen them before everything went white. He just had to make it to them.

The sounds of explosions above him and the blasts of light hindered him from finding them right away, but he soon tripped over someone. Dean landed harshly on the floor on the other side of the body. He scrambled to his feet and grabbed the person he tripped over. The body was far too small to be Sam. It _had_ to be Adam. Dean lifted him easily by the back of his shirt and slung him over a shoulder as he felt around on the floor for Sam. 

Then he bumped into the second body. He reached down and grabbed a hold of him, recognizing his giant moose of a brother immediately. _He had Sam._ He clutched onto Sam’s shirt and flung him over the other shoulder. He felt smug, finally able to lift his heavy ass without straining himself. He’d have time to gloat later. Now he was on a rescue mission.

With both of his brothers slung over his shoulders Dean dashed back down the corridor towards the door. Before he left sight of the cavern he paused to look back at the bright clash of Grace behind him. Somehow he could recognize Castiel’s form in the mass of light. The sparkle of colors was unique to him, even though the other two were nearly impossible to distinguish from each other. He wanted to rescue Castiel, too. One angel fighting the two most powerful archangels in existence on his own didn’t seem very hopeful, but he had two lives depending on him to get out of Hell. This is what he came for. He had to leave.

When he got to the door Dean threw the amulet against it and quickly read off the incantation. He squeezed through it the second it was large enough for them to fit through and dropped his brothers on the ground just outside the cage. He immediately flooded the surrounding area with his Grace, destroying the few demons that had ventured back to the area after he and Castiel scattered them the first time. Castiel was right. They were coming back looking for a fight. They had to leave _now_.

Dean had no idea how to get him and his brothers home alone. ‘Let your Grace guide you home,’ he remembered Castiel saying. But, his Grace wasn’t guiding him anywhere except back to Castiel. He needed him there beside them. All he could do was keep Sam and Adam safe until Castiel could join them and get them back to Earth. Castiel was _insane_ if he thought Dean had enough control over himself to teleport without his help. He had no idea what he was doing.

When he looked down and his brothers he noticed the blood spilling from their ears. All of the Grace was damaging them even more, but he knew that pain couldn’t compare to what Michael and Lucifer must have subjected them to. The atmosphere alone had turned their skin into a permanent shade of sunburn. If destroying their hearing was going to save them from an eternity trapped down here, it seemed worth it. He just hoped they could get out quickly before they deteriorated any worse than they already were.

Dean waited for what felt like hours, but in reality had been less than a minute. He was torn between saving his brothers and helping Castiel, Dean knew that no matter how impossible the task seemed, he had to get them home. Cas would have to wait, Sam and Adam were helpless here. And every second they remained, body and soul, in Hell, they were being damaged, possibly permanently.

_Dammit, Castiel, don’t you fucking do this to me._

Dean hesitantly pulled the pendant from the door and watched it close behind him. He felt like he was betraying Castiel. He was leaving him trapped in the cage with two of the most powerful beings in existence who had a very real reason to be mad at him. Cas was essentially taking Sam and Adam’s place.

With the door shut behind him and his immediate vicinity free of demons Dean knelt by his unconscious brothers and shut his eyes. _Let the Grace guide you home._ He laid a hand on each of his brothers and thought of Bobby’s house. He needed to get them there safely and he had to do it now. He had to get to _Bobby’s_.

He felt the Grace inside him expand and vibrate and he felt the familiar sensation of teleportation spreading across his skin. He could feel the air around him shifting, an electric sensation coursing through every cell of his body as a gap between dimensions began to open up at his will. Before teleportation had caused physical shock to his body, but controlling it seemed to energize him. He felt his Grace thrumming with excitement, performing a task that was familiar to it, even if Dean had never tried to use it before.

Then they slipped through the gap and teleported out of Hell.


	8. Chapter Seven

When Dean landed in Bobby's living room, he came to the shocking realization that he only had Sam with him. Dean had been so preoccupied with concentrating on reaching Bobby's house safely that he hadn't noticed Adam disappeared somewhere along the way. The overwhelming sensation of every molecule in his body shifting through dimensions had simply been too distracting. He was consumed by it and hadn’t had the clarity to think about anything else until his feet landed on Bobby’s living room floor.

Bobby came running into the room and rushed immediately to their side. The older hunter’s attention was immediately on Sam, whose skin was so burned it was nearly blistered. Sam didn’t have any broken skin or immediate signs of bruising and his chest was slowly moving up and down, which were both incredibly good signs - they meant he was alive at least - but he still wasn’t conscious. He was just as out of it as he was when Dean had first laid eyes on him in the cage. 

“Where’s the angel,” Crowley said casually as he sauntered into the room. Bobby and Dean ignored him and focused on getting Sam onto the couch. They gently laid him on his back, head resting against the armrest. 

As Dean frantically tried to think of how the hell you'd apply first aid for someone who just got out of Hell, Bobby went and got the burn kit and started to go to work wrapping Sam up like a mummy. Dean couldn't help but think that Bobby was just treating the symptoms here. The type of torture Sam suffered most likely went beyond the physical. His mind - his _soul_ \- could be damaged and they had no way of knowing if they were unharmed while he was unconscious. 

“Wake up, kid,” Bobby said as he gently shook him by the shoulders, cautious of his burns.

“Come on, Sammy. You gotta come to, here.” Dean gently slapped Sam’s cheek, knowing that the contact must have hurt but hoping the pain was enough to snap Sam out of it. But nothing happened.

Cas’ Grace had healed many times. Dean had learned how to teleport when he needed it and now he needed to heal Sam. Dean laid his hands on Sam, concentrating on the warmth of his Grace, willing it to touch Sam. He could feel his Grace _trying_ to do something. It made contact with Sam’s soul - _he could feel Sam’s soul_ \- but he couldn’t tell what condition it was in or how to fix it - _if it even needed to be fixed._ His brother’s physical body remained unchanged and Dean cursed at his inability to help him.

Dean stood and paced the room running his hands through his hair in frustration as Bobby took Sam’s vitals again. Bobby sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. Eventually he sat back in the chair across from him and shook his head, clearly at a loss for what to do.

 

“So about that feather-” Crowley began.

“SHUT UP!” Dean screamed at him so loudly that his Grace seeped through, causing both Bobby and Crowley to recoil and cover their ears.

Dean was taken back by his own outburst. He had fully intended to snap at Crowley, but he hadn’t intended on letting his Grace come out. Castiel had taught him control of it, but now that he was afraid of losing him, that control was slipping. He needed Castiel. He needed his help and his companionship and his love. He needed his guidance and knowledge. He just needed _him_. The thought of managing without him was too much. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“Dammit, Cas! _Don’t do this!_ ” Everything shook again and Bobby and Crowley froze in place watching Dean shout. Dean could sense their fear, but he couldn’t think beyond his own devastation. Castiel was gone. “‘Let my Grace guide me home?’ Why don’t you fucking take your own advice and get your feathery ass back here. Come _home_. Come back to me. I can’t do this without you. I fucking _need_ you!”

With his last words, Dean felt his Grace expand out of him. For a moment he was worried that he would blind Sam and Bobby, but he soon realized that what was happening wasn’t visible on this plain of existence. Crowley could see it, of course, but the demon had backed all the way up against the wall on the other side of the room to get away from the unstable angry man filled with Grace. Crowley may be an asshole, but he was smart. It’s how he’d survived for so damn long.

Once Dean was sure they were safe, he reached his Grace out in Castiel’s direction. He backtracked the route he’d teleported through, straddling the lines between dimensions as he sought out his angel. He could feel Cas’ fear and pain and Dean became determined to reach him. It was like a magnetic pull guiding him through an uncharted territory that Dean’s human mind was woefully unprepared to understand. Everything was moving quickly, but he just kept following the sense of Castiel that his Grace was chasing through the darkness.

When his Grace made contact with Castiel, he grabbed tightly onto him and pulled him through the wall between dimensions. The Grace inside him rejoiced at being reunited with the angel and Dean wanted nothing more than to feel him physically at the same time. He began retracting his Grace and pulling the angel back towards him at a breakneck speed. He could sense Castiel’s confusion, but he didn’t even attempt trying to sooth him. He could only focus on one thing at a time and his mind was entirely preoccupied with the thought of pulling Castiel home.

Castiel appeared in the middle of the room arms outstretched as though he were fighting off invisible assailants. It took him several seconds to fully comprehend the change in scenery. When he did he looked at Dean, wide eyed and stunned. As much faith as Castiel had in Dean’s abilities, he certainly wasn’t expecting _that_.

“Cas...” Dean hesitated for a moment, also in shock at what he’d done, but soon he was closing the space between them and pulling him close. They stood in the middle of the room locked in a tight embrace, Castiel’s wings - visible only to them and the demon - were curling around him.

“I heard you,” Cas said. “You were... you were yelling at me...”

"You heard me?"

"I always hear you when you call for me."

Dean laughed softly and ran his hands through Cas’ hair. He ran his hands along the base of Cas’ wings, trailing his fingers across the feathers part out of joy of having Castiel back and partly checking his condition. The feathers were singed, but there were no wounds. Whatever had happened, it hadn’t been too physical.

Dean let his Grace drift over Cas’ and there is where he felt the damage. Castiel’s Grace was unsteady, throbbing with pain and shivering with fear. Dean embraced that and immediately felt Castiel strengthen in his arms. Somehow his Grace was connecting with Castiel’s and replenishing his strength without Dean needing to even try. He wished healing Sam had been this damn easy.

When Dean pulled back, his expression changed and he looked back over at Sam. His brother was still unconscious on the couch.

“I can’t wake him up,” Dean said as he turned back to Cas. “I can’t heal him, Cas, I don’t.... I don’t know what to do...”

Cas approached Sam on the couch and knelt down next to him. Dean stood close by, watching Castiel look over Sam. The angel tilted his head to look at him for a moment, examining the condition of not only his body, but his soul and mind as well. Castiel looked as though he were about to touch Sam, but at the last moment he reached out and took Dean’s hand instead. Cas pulled him onto the ground and pressed Dean’s hand against Sam’s cheek.

Dean felt Cas’ Grace _teaching_ his how to do it. He could feel the cells of Sam’s skin healing and he could see the pinkness fading away. Sam’s ears could hear again, his eyes were whole, and his lungs were no longer scared from the searing hot ashes of Hell. He felt Sam’s soul... scared, in pain, hopeless. He nearly cried when he felt that and he did his best to replace those emotions with happier ones; _love, safety, family._

Castiel’s Grace guided Dean to his brother’s mind, flashes of memories of the torment the two archangels had subjecting him to racing through him mind. They were _reading Sam’s mind._ His brother would probably have nightmares like Dean had after his time in Hell. He wanted to help him. He wanted to erase those memories and make the pain stop.

_We can’t,_ Cas said. _Everything up until we rescued him are etched permanently on his soul._

Dean really was crying then. He may have saved his brother physically from the pit, but he couldn’t do anything about the psychological torture. He’d have flashbacks. He’d have waking nightmares. It’d haunt him until the day he died, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. When they got to the memories of their rescue, he felt Castiel erasing everything. 

_Our presence with him in this moment will allow me to remove these memories,_ Castiel explained. _We can give him this one respite._

Then Sam was taking a deep intake of breath and sitting up quickly. Their Grace snapped back into their own bodies and Dean immediately maneuvered to be in his direct line of vision forcing himself to be the first thing Sam saw when he woke up. Sam reached out and grabbed onto Dean’s sleeve, obviously desperate for contact before snapping his eyes open and looking at Dean. 

Dean wasted no time pulling his brother into a hug. He started running his hand up and down Sam’s back in an attempt to calm him. Sam’s heart was racing and he was hyperventilating and Dean just wanted him to calm down before he made himself sick. Dean knew the feeling all too well. He’d wretched several times on the way to the gas station after Castiel had resurrected him. The next couple hours were going to be very difficult and uncomfortable for him.

“Sam, it’s ok, you’re out. It’s ok.”

“Dean,” Sam said, relaxing slightly as he recognized that he was safe and surrounded by allies.

Dean felt Castiel rest his hand gently on his back, spreading a sense of calm through both him and his brother. Sam’s breathing began to even out while his soul began to settle within him. Dean didn’t want to dip into his mind to see how much he remembered. For Dean it came back to him slowly, but Sam was so distraught right off the bat that he wasn’t sure if it was the same for him. Whatever the case was, they’d deal with it together. Sam would be okay. He just had to be.

After several long minutes Dean pulled back and looked at Cas.

“I don’t know what happened to Adam,” Dean said, sounding slightly guilty. “When we got here, he was gone.”

Castiel tilted his head and this time Dean could see the sparks of Grace sending themselves out into the cosmos as Castiel searched for an answer. Dean was awed by the sight, curious if that’s what he looked like to Crowley when he’d been reaching through dimensions for Cas. After a few seconds, the bits of Grace returned to him and he locked eyes with Dean.

“He’s been pulled back to Heaven.”

“What?”

“When you pulled them from Hell, you pushed them ‘home.’ For Sam, home was here with you and Bobby. For Adam, home was Heaven with his mother. Adam was never meant to be here. He had no reason to return to Earth.”

“So I... sent him to Heaven?”

“You helped him return there, yes. He’s at peace.”

Dean exhaled, feeling a sense of calm that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Everyone he loved was safe for the time being. He had no doubt that there would still be danger in their future, but they’d won this battle. The only thing left in the cage were two royally pissed off archangels who were trapped with nobody but each other to take their frustration out on. They no longer had Winchester punching bags to take the brunt of it.

“Well,” Crowley said with a cough. “Now that you’re back, angel, I think we have some business to tend to, don’t you say?”

Cas looked to Crowley momentarily before turning back to Dean. “He’s right. We need to finish our contract.”

Dean let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He knew they had to finish this deal, but he’d just gotten both Cas and Sam back _at the same time_ and he didn’t want to let either one of them out of his sight.

“Fine, but look,” he said as he looked between the angel and his brother. “From now on, if any of us go to Hell, we all go to Hell. No more solo adventures, you got it?”

“How about we all just stop going to Hell,” Sam said, finally groggily joining in the conversation.

“Well, obviously that’s a better idea,” Dean said as he rolled his eyes. “But Hell just keeps coming back to bite us in the ass.”

“Don’t worry,” Crowley interrupted. “Once we’re done here, I’m putting a blanket ban on all things Winchester. That includes you two,” Crowley said as he nodded at Bobby and Cas.

“Does that mean I’m free of my contract?” Bobby crossed his arms and looked at the demon skeptically.

“A deal is a deal, Singer. Your soul will be yours again.”

Castiel stood up from the floor and looked at Crowley. The angel opened his coat and pulled out one long white feather and held it up. Crowley looked at it and nodded before making his way towards the door. Cas started to follow him immediately, but Dean grabbed his hand and stood up to be on the same level as him.

“Wait,” Dean said. Cas turned back around to look at him. “Be careful. One near death experience a day is all you get, alright? No more saving each others asses today.”

Cas smiled and nodded. Dean leaned in and kissed him on the lips, cupping his face and running his thumb over his cheek. Castiel would be back. He knew it. Nothing was going to take Cas away from him again and now he actually had the power to follow through on it. 

When they pulled apart Cas nodded his head again, a reassurance that he could keep his word.

“I promise I’ll return, Dean. As quickly as possible.”

“I know,” Dean said. He rubbed his thumb over Cas’ cheek one more time before lowering his hands to his side. Castiel turned and finally followed an impatient looking Crowley out the door. 

When Dean turned back to his brother he noticed Sam was looking at him, confusion etched on his face. He hadn’t really thought about how to explain him and Castiel’s relationship to his brother. He’d had way more important things on his mind and frankly he just assumed his brother would be fine with it. Still, introducing him to it slowly would have probably been better.

“You guys kiss now?” Sam leaned back against the couch, completely over his attempt at sitting up.

“Uh... yeah. You missed a lot.”

“How long was I gone?”

“A week?” Dean thought back over the past few days and counted in his head. “Maybe.”

“Oh. A week,” Sam said, laughing slightly. “What else did I miss?”

“Well.... I’ve got a little bit of angel in me now.”

“TMI, dude.”

“Not like - well, actually, yes, that too, but that’s not what I meant.” Sam just raised his eyebrows and Dean looked at Bobby for help.

“You’re the one that did it, kid. You gotta explain it.”

Dean sighed and began the complicating process of catching his brother up on his extremely busy week.

-

After Sam had eaten, showered, and mostly gotten over the ‘my brother is part angel’ thing, he crashed on the bed in the upstairs guest room. Dean lurked in the doorway watching over his brother, almost afraid that the second he took his eyes off of him something might happen. He knew they were relatively safe for the time being - Bobby’s house was well equipped to defend against the supernatural - but the protective big brother in him didn’t want to chance it.

Castiel appeared next to him and Dean finally felt safe enough to look away.

_How is he,_ Cas asked silently.

_Better,_ Dean replied. _Physically, anyway. He’ll have nightmares about it. I can tell._ “We should probably go somewhere else to talk,” he whispered. “I can only keep that head talking thing going for so long.”

Castiel nodded and with a touch to his shoulder they teleported to Bobby’s living room.

“So you’re in charge upstairs now, huh?” Dean leaned against the back of the couch and pulled Castiel close to him. The angel stood between Dean’s feet and rested his hands on Dean’s hips. They both relaxed when their Grace made contact with each other.

“Yes,” Cas said, almost reluctant to admit to such a large amount of power and responsibility.

“How did Raph take it?”

“Not well. But he’s nearly powerless now. Permanently. As are Michael and Lucifer. Their Grace has been drained and the feather that is the key to releasing their powers back to them has been destroyed. It’s locked up forever.” 

Dean chuckled. “I guess Raph’s your little bitch for good, isn’t he?”

Cas cracked a smile. “I suppose so.” Then his expression shifted to something much more serious and his eyes caught Dean in the way that made it possible for Dean to look anywhere else. “But I intend to take this responsibility seriously. The host of Heaven is hanging on my every word. Some are following more easily than others. Some refuse to follow at all. I need to... I need to do this right, Dean.”

“You will,” Dean said cupping his face and gently running his thumbs over Cas’ cheeks. “I mean, sure, you’ll probably make mistakes. Everyone does. Sam and I started the motherfucking apocalypse. Talk about _mistakes._ But Heaven and Earth are both way better off with you at the top of the food chain.”

“Your confidence in me is astounding.”

“It’s well deserved,” Dean said as he leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. He pulled back and raised an eyebrow at Cas. “Now your confidence in me? That’s undeserved.”

“Dean - “ Cas stopped himself. He clearly wanted to argue and praise all of Dean’s amazing qualities, but he instead he just shook his head. “You are wrong.”

Dean laughed at the simplicity of his argument and pulled Cas into a hug. They stood there, embracing in Bobby’s living room, and Dean finally understood what Castiel meant when he instructed him to let his Grace guide him home. _This_ was his home. Bobby’s house, with Bobby and Sam asleep and Cas in his arms and everything as it should be. He was finally home.


End file.
